Chuck vs Le Renard
by 2old2write
Summary: Set in Season 3's Cv The Honeymooners, the team investigates a problem at a CIA station in Zurich, while Chuck and Sarah enjoy their newfound love, all the while being pursued by unknown agents. Their only clue is a business card with "Le Renard" and the shadow of a fox. Fun, adventure, CHARAH.
1. 1 Back in the Saddle

**Chuck vs Le Renard**

**I. Back in the Saddle**

Flashback to two nights ago, in a European train sleeping compartment:

"Sarah Walker: do you agree to quit the spy life with me?"

"I do. Chuck Bartowski: do you agree to quit the spy life with me?

"I do."

##########

The present, in a Swiss pastry shop:

"Chuck Bartowski: do you agree to not quit the spy life and be with me?"

"I do. Sarah Walker: do you agree to not quit the spy life and be with me?"

"I do."

With giddy smiles erupting from their faces, Chuck and Sarah embraced, kissing each other fervently, and reveling in the nearly head to toe touch. They broke the kiss, both breathing heavily, and still smiling excitedly. Pulling back from him slightly, Sarah looked into the kind, deeply chocolate brown eyes that had struck her to her very core the first day they had met, two and a half years ago. She jumped into his arms bringing her beautiful, long legs up and around his waist, and their lips once again crashed together.

"Ungh! I'm not going to have to put up with that all the time now, am I?"

They pulled out of the kiss, both out of breath, and turned to face their newly reinstated partner, while keeping the sides of their heads touching. "Oh, you old softy … you know you're happy for us." Chuck had spoken for them both while Sarah just looked on, smiling and blushing lightly.

Casey would never admit it … even to himself ... but seeing the smiles on their faces did stir something deep inside him. _Just indigestion … damned rich pastries._ "I've notified Beckman. She said we need to find a secure place to contact her. I think something's brewing. Any suggestions?"

"Uh, guys," Morgan walked up to them while furiously typing into his iPhone, "I think I have a solution to that problem."

"Shut up Grimes. I don't need any more of your babbling."

"Easy Casey. Remember: he did find us in Paris."

"Ungh. Okay … spill it, Grimes."

"You guys aren't going to believe this. Two blocks from here is the _KaufenMehr_."

Sarah started laughing while Chuck and Casey just stared at the smiling bearded face. "It's the Swiss equivalent of the ... wait for it ... _BuyMore_!"

Now it was Chuck's turn to laugh, joining his lovely girlfriend, while all Casey could do was shake his head and say," You've got to be kidding me."

"Way to go, buddy!" Chuck clapped a hand on Morgan's shoulder and squeezed gently. "See Casey, I told you he would be a valuable member of the team.

"Let's go." Casey angrily snatched up his bag, and took off down the street at a fast pace, with Morgan half walking, half running, to keep up.

Chuck and Sarah, on the other hand, hung back, strolling arm in arm, like the tourists they really wanted to be, stopping now and then to look in the shop windows and exchange warm kisses. Having walked the three blocks Morgan had told them about, they turned right onto _Rathausgasse_ and stopped dead in their tracks. There it was, half way down the block on the right side of the street, the large green and yellow sign that was so familiar. "Wow," came out of both their mouths as they just stood and stared.

Casey came storming out the doors several seconds later. He stopped in the middle of the street and looked around, saw them, and motioned impatiently for them to join Morgan and him in the store. "We'd better get going before he starts dismantling something … or someone." Sarah giggled; it was the most wonderful sound Chuck had ever heard.

Entering the store, they once again had to stop and stare. It was like they were home, and had walked into their _BuyMore_, except nothing was in English.

Morgan ran up to them, "Most of the people here speak some English but I can't seem to get them to understand that we need privacy. Sarah, do you know the language?"

"Sure, Morgan ... Swiss French is the main language in this part of the country. Who do I need to talk to?"

"Here comes the manager."

A large man, dressed in a nice business suit walked purposefully down the aisle. When he arrived Morgan shook his hand. " Michael, allow me to introduce Sarah Walker."

The man was already staring at Sarah who had extended her hand and said 'hello' in the native language. He slowly raised his hand and gently took her hand, raising it to his lips. "Welcome, belle femme, to my humble store. How may I be of personal assistance to you?" He continued to hold her hand and stare. _At least he's gentlemanly enough to keep his eyes above my neck._ Finally, Chuck cleared his throat rather loudly, and Sarah ... less gently ... pulled her hand away.

She spoke flawlessly to him in his native language, eliciting a look of, first surprise, and then pleasure, from the rotund store manager. They spoke back and forth for several moments and then, with a big smile and a bow, Michael motioned for them to follow him. He led them to the rear, right corner of the store and into the theater display room. Even though the three men were there, his attention was entirely on Sarah: "My dear, please make yourself comfortable. I will see that this room, and all it's amenities, are locked down, for your use only. Please let me know if you require anything else."

"We could use some grape…."

"Shut up, Grimes. Focus." Casey flicked Morgan's left ear with his index finger and scowled.

The manager left the room while Sarah began pulling the drapes, Casey locked the doors, and Chuck and Morgan began setting up the video and computer equipment for their conference call.

"How can we know this is secure?"

"Relax, Casey. I've already locked down the store's firewalls, and added a couple variations of my own. It will be easier for them to tap into Beckman's end of the conversation than this one."

"Well, Mr. Bartowski, Agent Walker, good to see you have your minds on the job once again." Her frown and stare were enough to tell both Chuck and Sarah that she was not happy with them. How much she knew, or assumed, regarding their new status was anyone's guess.

"Agents, our Zurich office has gone dark. As you are the closest team that I know has not been compromised, I want you to investigate. Find out what's happened there and get back to me. Col. Casey, do you think Walker and Bartowski are fit for duty?"

"Yes, m…."

Casey started to answer but Sarah stepped in and stopped him. "Yes, General, we are ready, and on task."

"Very well. Make sure you stay that way." The screen went blank and the two lovers looked at each other and grimaced. "Not sure how much she knows, or has conjectured, but we will have to figure out a way to tell her."

"I know, honey. Let's take care of business here and maybe that will help smooth things over."

"Ungh!"

Leaving the theater room, Sarah sought out Michael once again to thank him for the inconvenience. Several of the BuyMorons were following her, tripping over one another in their attempts to get as close to her as possible, while several others were busy snapping pictures of the striking, blonde American. She heard "blondie" and "legs" from several of then, including the women, but her schooled spy face discouraged them as much as was possible with this gang. Michael once again kissed her hand, and she rewarded him with one of her electric smiles, which caused three of the green shirts to run into each other and fall to the floor in a heap. _I guess every _BuyMore_ is the same, regardless of where in the world it is. _Sarah walked away, shaking her head mirthfully.

Chuck had picking out several pieces of equipment he thought they may need for the mission and was checking out as she walked up. "Chuck, I think we should leave the store with something to remember us by." She linked her hands behind his head and kissed him thoroughly, running her right leg up and down his left, and leaving her boyfriend completely dazed. Behind them, they heard a huge crash as the entire Nerd Herd staff of the store crashed together, knocking their circular counter off its base and onto its side. Arms, legs, and computer equipment were tangled together, sticking up into the air at crazy angles, as the counter rolled down the center aisle of the store. Chuck and Sarah turned and strolled outside, hand in hand, laughing heartily.

Morgan was waiting for them and led them across the street to the _Restaurant Goldener Schl__ü__ssel Bern_. It had a classic, old world charm, with low, arched, wooden ceilings, and table and chairs made of the same wood as the ceiling. Sarah marveled at the childlike joy in Chuck's reaction to the ambience; she had been in so many places like this while on assignments, yet had completely missed the beauty of the world around her. Casey was, well, Casey. He had secured a table for them; nothing else mattered to him when on the job; which, of course, was all the time. But things were a little different today: the four friends, and colleagues, were together again, making each of them happy, each in their own way.

"We need to eat before heading to Zurich. Morgan, what did you find out?"

"The good news is: I've got train tickets for the four of us; it departs in eighty minutes. The bad news is: it's not a direct route and will take all night to get there."

"That's great Morgan, but we have one problem."

"Ungh. Only one?" As Sarah glared at Casey, he leaned away, out of her reach and continued, "What is our problem, Walker?"

"Well, we left all our spy gear in Paris; all the rest of our luggage left with our train earlier today. So all we have now is the clothes on our backs."

"Not a problem, actually." Casey smirked as both Chuck and Sarah's eyebrows raised in unison. "Knowing your train was eventually headed for Zurich, I figured we would, at least, catch up to you there. So I had all your clothes and gear in Paris packed up and shipped to the _Widder Hotel_. And while you dawdled along, and we were waiting for you at the _BuyMore_, I contacted the local train officials: your luggage will be waiting at the station in Zurich when we get there."

Sarah's smile grew throughout Casey's speech. It was one of the longest he had ever delivered, and it warmed her heart. She was sure he had been given a burn notice on them, and for him to take the time and effort to take care of their luggage meant he had no intention of killing either of them. As a small lump formed in her throat, all she could do was quietly say, "Thank you, Casey."

Chuck was touched by his efforts as well and clapped him on the shoulder, eliciting a snarl and glare. In order not to lose his hand, Chuck quickly pulled it back, but continued to smile at his friend.

"Come on you three, let's order. We need to eat. That train isn't going to wait for us." They all smiled as Morgan sounded like a travel agent hustling along stragglers on a tour stop.

##########

Unfortunately for Chuck and Sarah, Morgan had not booked them a sleeping compartment for this leg of their journey. At least they were in seats together, but it just wasn't the same as the privacy they had enjoyed previously.

Unfortunately for Casey and Morgan, they were in the two facings seats with Chuck and Sarah, and were subject to all the sweet nothings being whispered and their loving, albeit PG rated, caresses. Casey's grunts and muttered obscenities were the subjects of the surrounding passengers' stares, but the two young lovers were oblivious to it all.

The lights had been dimmed in the car as the time neared midnight. There had been a little conversation through the evening, mostly Morgan wanting details as to what had happened with Shaw, but the others shushed him; it was too public a place to discuss that kind of thing. Mostly, they had just dozed fitfully through the evening, with Casey continually having to push Morgan upright; the little bearded gnome kept leaning over onto his shoulder.

Now, with a final goodnight, Chuck moved into the back corner of their seats, his back against the window. Sarah then snuggled up to him, her back against his chest, and pulled her long legs up into the seats. Having removed her high heeled boots, she wriggled her toes, and sighed in contentment as the blood and feeling began returning to her feet. Snuggling deeper into her man, she deftly pulled his right hand, which had already been wrapped around her waist, under her blouse, to rest comfortably on her tummy. She looked around at his face and smiled with joy and contentment at his wide open and unblinking eyes. They were soon both asleep, dreaming of being together and the love they could now openly share.

Although he appeared to be asleep, Casey remained awake, his mind actively working. A spy didn't live long if they were not aware of all that was around them and two men, across the aisle and three rows back, had caught his attention earlier in the evening. They were obviously watching his team, one or the other watching while appearing to be reading or using their iPad. When either had moved along the aisle, they always seemed to move more slowly past the team's seats, once even timing it to meet two other passengers, thus being forced to lean in closely to Walker's seat. He was sure they were up to something, on the pretense of ogling the beautiful blonde woman.

Quite some time had passed, and as he pondered staying awake all night, he heard a very soft 'psst' come from the seat across from him. Putting his left foot on Sarah's seat, he leaned forward, untying and retying his shoelace.

"Two men … three rows back." Without moving, other than an imperceptible movement of her lips, Sarah whispered to him.

"Yeah ... got a little close to you earlier."

"Saw that … you want first watch?"

"Sure. Wake you in an hour."

Sarah shifted slightly in Chuck's arms, and Casey saw her nod in acknowledgement. Leaning back, he settled in for a night of vigilance.

##########

They arrived in Zurich on time … 8:45 am … and they left the train, Chuck and Sarah to the rear of the car, Casey and Morgan to the front. Oddly enough, both men followed Chuck and Sarah, which allowed Casey and Morgan to double back and follow the followers. It was a classic bit of spy craft that Sarah and Casey did instinctually, without even speaking. Their partnership had grown over the years and was now one of mutual respect, experience, and trust. The team had really missed Casey during his exile, and he felt complete once again, as well.

Neither of the men had moved from their seats the rest of the night. Sarah had contemplated taking a walk, during one of the train's stops, to see if they would follow, but both men appeared to be asleep, so she had just remained in Chuck's arms.

During her shifts being awake, she thought back to the many nights, in the privacy of her apartment, that she had imagined lying in Chuck's arms through the night. Each time those thoughts invaded her spy trained brain, she chastised herself. But more often than not, the only way to quell those thoughts would be to get out her heavy bag, and workout until exhaustion finally overwhelmed her. As the months went by, it became harder and harder for her to work those feelings of desire out enough to fall fitfully asleep. Now, feeling his heartbeat and breathing against her back, she regretted the time they had wasted.

True to Casey's word, Chuck and Sarah's luggage was waiting for them at the Customer Service Office. Once collected, they proceeded towards the taxi stand. They stopped near the exit to embrace and exchange a long kiss. While appearing to be two young lovers, completely absorbing in one another, they each scanned the crowd to relocate their tails. Sure enough, the two men were now trying to look inconspicuous, standing next to a sunglasses kiosk, and waiting for their targets to move again.

While trying to stay completely in spy mode, both Chuck and Sarah were feeling the surge of adrenaline from this physical contact. It was all Sarah could do to keep her mind on the job, and Chuck lost focus merely from the intoxicating smell of her beautiful, blonde locks. Despite the adrenaline surging through her, the thought that this is why spies should not be romantically involved flashed through Sarah's brain; reluctantly she pulled out of the kiss. Chuck stood still, holding her, his eyes closed.

Regaining her composure, Sarah watched the crowd's movements: grabbing Chuck's hand she pulled him into a surge of people, all headed to the taxi stand. Her timing was perfect, placing several other customers between them and the two men, who came running out of the station. Realizing their mistake, the men tried to force their way into the next taxi but, not only were they rebuked by other travelers, they were soundly lectured by security before being told to find other transportation. They both kicked at the pavement in frustration, knowing they had lost their quarry.

It was not a long taxi ride directly to the hotel but Sarah directed the driver to take the scenic route; two lovers, visiting the city, and wanting to get a lay of the land before beginning their explorations. The driver was more than happy to accommodate, knowing it was running up his fare. While making it look like they was taking in the sights, they both kept a vigilant watch behind and around them to see if anyone was following. Finally, after 45 minutes, Sarah was confident they were alone and directed the driver to take them to the hotel.

Beckman had reserved two rooms for the team at the _Widder Hotel_ and when Sarah gave the concierge their name, their check in was expedited, and they were quickly shown to their room. The bellman told them that Casey and Morgan had not arrived as yet, so he opening the door connecting the two rooms. The checked both rooms, discovering that they had a giant, king size bed, and Casey and Morgan had two queen size beds. Each room had a nice sitting area, and a balcony overlooking the business district across the street. Chuck and Sarah even had a two person jacuzzi in their bathroom, which had already elicited ooh's and ah's from the couple.

"Uh, Sarah, didn't the General say she made the hotel reservations?"

"Yeah. What's the matter, Chuck?"

Wwweeeelllll, she got us a room with one bed. Do you think this means she knows we are together?"

Walking over to him and taking his hands in her's, she responded, "She isn't stupid, you know. We did go off grid … together. Even if she doesn't know for sure, I'm sure it's a scenario she has considered. But, if she thought it was a problem, she wouldn't have sent us on this mission. Let's not worry about it for now." Looking into his eyes she easily read the worry present in them.

Rubbing his thumbs on the backs of her hands, Chuck stammered, obviously freaking out a bit: "We … we have … uh, worked too … hard to get to … to where we are now, Sarah. I can't go back … not now … can't give you up. I lo…."

Sarah placed both hands on his face and raised herself on her toes, to place a warm kiss on his lips. The kiss deepened quickly into something that promising much more. Reluctantly breaking the kiss in order to breath Sarah sighed into his ear, "Me, too, Chuck, me too. We are together now … no one will ever change that." And their lips touched once again….

##########

Casey and Morgan had watched Chuck and Sarah evade the men following them. Casey merely grunted while Morgan pumped his fist in the air a couple of times. "Come on, Grimes, we need to find out who those guys are. Think small and insignificant; we don't want them to see us now."

Before Morgan could say a word Casey was moving, melting into the crowd despite his size. _Think small he says … insignificant he says… what's he think I've done my whole life…._

The two men moved to the shuttle pickup area and boarded the bus marked_ Kloten Airport_. Casey slammed a fist into the sign directing travelers to the train platform, as Morgan ran up. "Back to the taxi stand … if you don't make it there when I do I will leave you here. Move it!" Casey had grabbed Morgan's shoulder, spun him around, and gave him shove down the walkway.

Morgan did manage to keep up without hurting himself or any other travelers. He was, however, terribly out of breath. Casey once again grabbed him, heaved him into the back seat of a taxi, and then piled in after. "English?" At the driver's nod, he continued, "See the white and green shuttle bus? Follow it; there's a bonus if you can keep up."

The driver was excellent, keeping the shuttle well within view despite the heavy traffic and narrow streets. "Ze bus ... she do not go to ze aeroport. Iz very strange."

"Just stay with them."

About ten minutes later the shuttle pulled up in front of a modern, glass and steel building. The two men jumped out and ran inside. When the cab pulled up to the building a sharp intake of air from Casey and he shouted at the driver, "Get us out of here; go, go, go!"

Morgan had jerked his head around to look at the big man: the hard set on that strong face would have scared anyone, but Morgan, knowing Casey's facial expressions as well as anyone, knew they were in trouble.

"Wha-what is it, Casey?"

"That, Morgan, is the _Einsatzgruppe TIGRIS_; the _Federal Criminal Police_. What have we stepped into this time?" Then to the driver: "Get us out of here; to the _Widder Hotel_ on Rennwig.


	2. 2 Love, Air Ducts, and Cars, Oh My!

**2. Love, Air Ducts, and Cars, Oh My!**

Their new-found intimacy, the culmination of two and a half years of stop/start, roiling emotions, denials, and endless sleepless nights for both, was keeping them in a constant state of mutual, burning desire. Now, despite being in each others' arms through most of the train ride to Zurich, they had gone over 24 hours without making love, and they were both ready to burst. So this kiss easily brought them to full boil.

Hands roamed freely as Sarah pushed Chuck backwards, their lips devouring each other. Suddenly the backs of Chuck's legs hit the bed and he fell backwards, pulling his golden haired goddess down on top of him. As he pushed himself further onto the bed, she knelt on the edge of the bed and pulled her blouse up and over her head. The sight of her … his Sarah ... kneeling above him, wearing only a sheer, red, lacy bra was overwhelming; the sensory overload sending electric shockwaves racing through him. He tried to speak but nothing would come out; he could only stare at her amazing loveliness.

The sight of him … her Chuck … eyes wide open, his mouth working but no words coming forth, thrilled her, bringing forth a warmth within her, that she had never known or felt before, pulsing outward from her heart. She wanted to stare into his richly dark brown eyes, but she also needed him to touch her now, so she reached down, took his hand, and placed it on the wonderfully soft skin, just below her navel. She saw his eyes shift to their entwined fingers, and then follow along as she slowly pulled his hand upward. With his hand now resting on her breast, she pushed into his hand, rolled them onto their sides, and moved in to kiss his neck before running her tongue up to his ear.

Chuck moaned loudly as he regained control of his limbs and enveloped her with his long legs, while running his free hand up into her silken hair. Sarah was repeating his name over and over now, while running her hands along his flanks, pulling his shirt up, and working on his belt. Their frenzy continued to grow and….

_CRASH!_

The door to the next room was flung open, slamming into the wall. What followed could only be described as an angry hornets' nest being kicked down the street. A couple of heavy mission bags slammed into the wall, knocking a picture to the floor, all while the swearing, coming from a gruff, male voice, blistered the nondescript wallpaper.

Sarah yelped, jumped off Chuck, and dove to the floor, putting the bed between her and the door. Meanwhile, all Chuck could do was raise himself up on his elbows and croak out: "Casey? Morgan? That you, guys?"

Morgan raced into the room through the connecting door, "He's crazy! Casey has finally lost it! Chuck, you've got to … to … to…." Morgan stopped with his mouth open. He looked at Chuck, lying on the disheveled bed, his shirt half on and half off, a dazed look of disappointment on his face. "Oh … uh … hi. We just … mmmmm … got h…. Uh, where's Sarah?"

A waving hand came up from behind the bed, followed by a beautiful face, surrounded by thoroughly mussed, long blonde hair. "Uh ... hi, Morgan." Sarah's face wore a delightful blush and grin.

Morgan beat a hasty retreat into his room, where Casey was still ranting away. With his back against the wall, next to the connecting door, Morgan continued, "You guys better get in here. I'm not sure what's happening, but Casey is about to start an international incident."

"Uh, yeah ... okay Morgan. We'll … be there in a sec." Chuck moved to the door as he spoke, and then closed it.

Once it was safe, Sarah stood up and came around the bed laughing. She picked up her blouse before moving over to Chuck, who stood motionless, watching her every move, and kissed him gently, while caressing his cheeks with her hands. They both smiled before she broke away and moved towards the bathroom, "Let me repair the damage here, and then we will go see what the problem is with Casey." With one last, radiant smile, she disappeared. Chuck continued to smile as he silently brought his left hand to his mouth, the memory of red lace ... and her lips on his ... still fresh.

##########

"Ungh! We've stumbled into something here, and we can't just go sneaking around, if _E-TIGRIS_ is looking for us." Casey had calmed down enough to speak in a normal tone, albeit through clenched teeth. His right hand kept drifting to his belt where it would touch the grip of his Sig.

"You're right, Casey. But do our little friends know about the CIA office, or are they following us for another reason? You know I really don't believe in coincidences." Sarah had walked into the room, joining Chuck at the table near the window, putting her left hand on his shoulder. Chuck brought his hand up to cover her's, causing Casey to grimace and turn away, while Morgan, standing behind the big man, pointed at Chuck and gave him a big, two thumbs up.

"Sarah, shouldn't we contact Beckman? Maybe she contacted the Swiss so we wouldn't be stepping on their toes?"

"It's possible, Chuck, but that's not SOP. And, if so, why didn't they just make contact with us?" She paused, not knowing what else to say; silence fell over the room. Each of them were consumed by their own individual thoughts until she gave herself a mental shake: "Okay. Chuck and Morgan, you get to work on communications so we can contact the General. Casey, we need to take stock of our supplies to see what we have here. Let us know, sweetheart, when the monitor is ready." She squeezed Chuck's shoulder and then turned to go back to their room.

Casey, again, growled at her term of endearment for Chuck, then walked over to the bags strewn across the floor. Both his and Morgan's bags were laying there, haphazardly thrown on top of two more that had been in the room, waiting for them.

##########

The two pairs worked diligently and efficiently. By the time Chuck and Morgan had hacked into the internet through the television, and set up security protocols to rival anything the Pentagon could imagine, Sarah and Casey had unpacked all the supplies sent by Beckman, as well as what they each normally carried with them. It was an impressive array of equipment and weapons, all neatly arranged on Morgan's bed.

General Diane Beckman was used to receiving calls at all hours but she had only been home and in bed an hour when their call woke her. Clap/clap: her screen lit up. "Yes? What is it?

"General, very sorry to wake you at this hour, but we have a problem here."

"And what would that be, Agent Walker?" Like all good spies, Beckman could awaken fully in a matter of seconds. But the deep frown across her face told the agents she was not pleased to be disturbed at this hour.

"Two men were watching us on the train. Chuck and I lost them at the train station and Casey and Morgan followed them from there. They appear to be agents of the _Einsatzgruppe TIGRIS_. We were wondering if you had alerted them to our presence?"

"Wow, Chuck … Sarah is so amazing when she speaks a foreign language!"

"Shhhhh, Morgan. Not now." As Morgan clapped his hand over his mouth, Chuck mouthed at him, with eyes wide: _I know … totally awesome!_

Beckman glared at Morgan, and then growled: "Of course not. Why would you think that?"

"Just double checking, ma'am. We are concerned that with them watching us, it could be a problem getting into the CIA office."

"While I understand that, it is imperative that you do so. You say that you lost them; hopefully you can get in and out before they find you again. Proceed with the mission, agents." The screen went black before anyone could say more.

"Ungh," Casey's right hand exploded into the palm of his left, making both Chuck and Morgan jump. "I don't like it; I don't like it at all."

Seeing the wide, panicky eyes on Chuck's face, Sarah tried to calm him by reaching out and taking his hand in hers, "I agree, Casey, but we have a job to do, and it's not like we've never done this before. I suggest we all try to get some rest; it's going to be a long night."

"Great idea, Sarah." Chuck's face was beginning to relax a bit, although he continued to flex his free hand in and out of a fist. "Let's regroup at six o'clock; we can order room service and finalize our plans over dinner."

"Uh, guys, you've covered my bed with weapons and equipment. Where am I suppose to sleep?"

"Hit the floor, moron. It's not at all disgusting." And with that, Casey flopped down on his bed and was asleep in mere seconds.

Still holding hands, Sarah and Chuck walked back into their room and lay down, quickly snuggling into each other. While both of them would have loved to finish what they had started a little earlier, they knew it was necessary for them to sleep now. The mission tonight was a complete unknown, and they would have to be at their best.

##########

Chuck awoke and instantly smiled. He had barely stopped smiling since that moment in the Paris hotel, when the one woman in the world that his heart cried out for, said those magic words: "Shut up and kiss me!"

It had only been about 72 hours since then, but he felt like they had been together forever. They had shared so many conversations in that time, some verbally and some just through their eyes; they had laughed, giggled, cried out in ecstasy, murmured soft nothings, and talked honestly and openly about wanting to be together … forever. And they had made love … frantically at times, gently at times, always uninhibitedly … thoroughly satisfying each other, like they had never experienced before.

Even now, although they were completely clothed, Chuck marveled at the feeling of this amazing woman in his arms, the gentle rising and falling of her breathing filling him with joy. And there was regret: regret for all the time they had wasted. Yes, much of that was because Sarah was the ultimate spy and insisted on following the rules: a spy and her asset could not be involved. He had known she had feelings for him, yet he had walked away from her, to other women; but none that could give him the feelings of being complete and contented like she could … no: did.

The alarm on Chuck's phone began to buzz and he sighed. It was time to get up and get on with the mission. Who knew when they would be able to once again lie together, to kiss, to….

Just as those thoughts spun through his brain, she turned in his arms and brought her hands to his face. Looking into each others' eyes, they each stopped for a second to revel in the beauty held within those gateways to their souls. Then they quickly brought their lips together, their tongues seeking to find each other. Breathlessly they pulled apart, sighed, and then brought their foreheads back together.

"Mmmmm … hi Chuck."

"Hi, beautiful."

"Guess we have to get up and go catch some bad guys, eh?"

"Guess so…."

##########

Chuck, Sarah and Casey moved up to the roof of their hotel at 2315. In the dark of night, and with all black mission clothes, they moved quickly across the roof, completely invisible to the naked eye.

Earlier, the four of them had enjoyed a simple, but very tasty meal, while discussing the mission. A plan quickly came into focus.

Moving back to their own room, Chuck and Sarah changed into their black mission clothes. Chuck came out of the bathroom and stopped abruptly with a sudden intake of air. Sarah was standing by the table, wearing only her black underwear, strapping on her ankle knife holster just above one well turned ankle, the other one already sporting her second gun. As she placed another knife into her bra pouch she turned to face him, showing her beautiful teeth with her biggest, best smile. If the shapely, scantily clad, figure of this woman hadn't completely stopped him before, that smile sealed the deal. His brain fogged over completely as he stared with open admiration.

"Chuck? Hey, Chuck. Yoo-hoo: you in there?" Sarah snapped her fingers and finally brought him back to the moment.

"Oh ... uh ... hi. Wow! Sorry, didn't mean to stare like that…."

"It's okay, Chuck. You flatter me…."

A pounding on their door broke the moment, followed by, "Let's go you two. Time to move out."

Chuck finished stowing his tranq gun in his jacket while Sarah finished dressing. They walked into the other room, Sarah added a couple of items from the inventory on Morgan's bed, and they headed for the door.

"Guys! Come on guys. You've got to let me…."

The three agents, standing in a row, all turned to face him.

Chuck, standing closest to him said: "Morgan…."

Followed by Sarah, in the middle: "Stay…."

And finally Casey, nearest the door: "In the…."

"ROOM!" They all spoke this final word together, firmly and emphatically.

Morgan hung his head and finally muttered, "Fine … whatever."

Earlier, they had moved the TV from Chuck and Sarah's room into Casey and Morgan's room. Daisy chaining them together, they were able to connect all their comm units, as well as the hotel and office building's security cameras, through Chuck's laptop, creating a station where Morgan could monitor all that was happening. As the other three left the room, he moved to the table and sat down, keying in a code that brought up all the audio and video feeds.

Casey began unpacking one of the bags when Sarah stopped him with a hand to his forearm. When he looked at her, she pointed up, to the top of the air conditioning unit next to them. "Casey, look. There's a cable running from here to the office building across the street. Does that look like a zip line to you?"

Casey stood up, grabbed the heavy wire, and gave it a couple healthy tugs. "Yep. I think you're right."

"Then someone has beat us here. Chuck, look at this … you get any kind of a flash?"

Looking at the wire, Chuck did indeed flash, "Yeah, Sarah. It's a zip line alright; a better one than we have; but it will still only hold one of us at a time. It is a typical wire used by cat burglars. Casey, I don't think it will support you."

"Wasn't planning on coming, Bartowski; staying here with my trusty sniper rifle, to keep an eye on you two. Time to get going."

Sarah quickly attached two trolleys to the wire and then hooked her harness to the first one. Chuck double checked all the D-rings and snap connectors, then gave a gentle tug on her ponytail. She turned to face him, saw his strained face, and immediately leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. "Let's do this, hon." She smiled for him: that special, blood boiling smile; he couldn't help but smile back.

She turned, stepped onto the ledge, and quickly pushed off. The wire sagged a bit with her weight but she was picking up speed and landed on the other roof in a matter of seconds. Unhooking, she waved and then softly spoke to Chuck through their comm: "Piece of cake, Chuck." Then with a sing-song voice: "Come and get me."

Casey double checked all of Chuck's harness connectors and gave him a thumbs up. "Don't expect me to run my hands through your hair, moron."

Chuck was gradually getting over his vertigo, but he didn't want to look down, so he fixed his eyes on Sarah, standing on the other roof. With a deep breath he clumsily climbed onto the ledge; before he could force himself to step off into the nothingness, he lost his balance and just fell forward. He didn't actually scream his high pitched, little girl scream, but either one was coming up into his throat quickly, or it was his supper.

Suddenly he was in Sarah's arms, and she was kissing his face, his eyes, his lips. He wanted to grab her and hold her, but his arms were still over his head, hooked to the wire. As he frantically pulled at the harness and wire, another tether slid out of the darkness behind them. Sarah finally got him loose and they embraced. But knowing they had work to do, they reluctantly pulled apart.

"Sarah, did you see this other tether? It's different than ours; any idea what it would be used for?"

Sarah looked it over but just shook her head. "It looks like it would be used for something small ... maybe used to move equipment. See how it has two hookups, like it would support something that wasn't capable of holding on itself. Strange…."

Leaving the wire, they quickly found the air vent they had identified as the most likely ingress. Attaching their rappelling ropes to two nearby water pipes, they moved quickly down the shaft to the cross duct for the sixth floor. Sarah easily pulled herself into this duct and then helped Chuck, his long legs wanting to always get in the way.

Once in, they both lay back to catch their breath, Sarah on her back and Chuck more or less on top of her. "Mmmm … this is nice. Uh, Sarah ... what's the strangest place you ever … uh … well…."

"Shhhhh, Chuck," she whispered into his ear, her breath sending chills through him. "Casey's listening. But … this would be very high on the list." They both laughed lightly before untangling, getting to their knees, and heading towards the CIA office.

While the ducts in Castle had been designed to accommodate agents moving to or from the underground base in case of emergency, these ducts were standard building fare, thus smaller and with sharp edges to catch clothing and skin. Castle also had its own lighting but here they were forced to don night vision goggles, which, no matter how much technology had improved, were still bulky and uncomfortable. It took quite a bit of concentration and finesse to move forward, all while trying to be as quiet as possible.

It took nearly thirty minutes to find the office, and another twenty to bypass the security features. Once it was clear Chuck pushed a minicam into the room from the wall vent. Peering around the room, he ascertained that the room was empty; and in disarray. Once the minicam was pulled back, Sarah used a small screwdriver, on a flexible wand, to removed the screws holding the vent cover in place. Chuck then attached a small grappling hook and rope to secure it and lower it to the ground.

Sarah maneuvered her wonderfully lithe body around, causing several sharp intakes of air from her partner, and pushed herself through the opening feet first. With a final, brilliant smile just for Chuck, she dropped gracefully, and silently, to the floor.

Now it was his turn, and he knew it would not be nearly as easy. After several tries he finally turned himself in the right direction, orienting his body to slip through the opening feet first. Twice his jacket caught on sharp screws sticking through the steel ductwork, the second time puncturing the skin on his shoulder and ripping a significant hole in the jacket's shoulder seam. But finally he worked his feet and legs through.

"That's it Chuck. Just keep coming straight out. I've got your legs." Sarah was supporting his legs and directing them down along the wall. Now it was her turn to breath funny as she got quite the view of his posterior, exiting the vent and hanging there in front of her.

"Oops." Chuck now realized he had a problem: his arms were over his head, giving him no way to hold on when he pushed his upper body through the vent. "Sarah, can you hear me?"

"What, Chuck?"

"Sarah, I can't hold on in here. Once I get my shoulders through, I'm going to fall."

"It's okay, sweetie, I'll be able to hold you. Just come on through."

Grimacing once again, Chuck pushed backward while twisting his upper body, to let his broad shoulders through the narrow opening. He was hoping to catch the edge of the vent but suddenly his shoulders popped through and he fell backwards, out of control. Sarah was supporting his legs, and hoped he would just slide down the wall, but he came through faster than anticipated. She staggered backward, Chuck flailed his arms, and they quickly landed in a heap on the floor.

"Ungh!" They both grunted as they hit the floor, a tangle of arms and legs. Chuck had twisted back and over Sarah's shoulder, and as he was falling, upside down, he firmly grabbed her bottom, causing her to jerk upward, landing a direct hit to his groin with the back of her head. Both moaned and lay still for several moments, each taking stock to make sure they were still basically intact.

"Chuck … Sarah: you guys okay?" Morgan had heard all the grunting and moaning and was fearing the worst.

"Uuuhhhhhhh … yeah … okay … maybe..."

"Uh, Chuck: you can let go of my butt now."

"Oh ... oh … sorry, honey."

Gradually untangling, so as not to hurt each other any more, they were finally able to stand. Chuck had lost his night goggles and Sarah's had slipped down to encircle her neck. Once she was able to get them back in place she moved to the far wall, took off her goggles, and flipped on the ceiling lights. As they looked at one another, they both started to laugh lightly: they were both quite a sight with clothes askew, her hair partially out of her ponytail, his jacket pulled half way over his head, and both quite dirty from crawling through the ducts. Chuck pulled out a small package from his right, upper pocket and, moving over to his lovely companion, wiped some of the dirty from her face with a handi-wipe.

"If you two can stop all the grab ass in there, do you think you can report?" Casey's voice brought them both back to the moment at hand.

"We're in Casey. Only minor scratches and bruises. The place is a mess; we are starting our search of the room. Chuck, can you get the video feed working, please?"

"On it honey." Chuck pulled out a small videocamera and began to circle the room. "Casey, Morgan: you guys getting this?"

"Got it," came simultaneously from both.

"What I'm seeing here is that every one of the computers has had it's hard drive removed, some violently. Nothing seems to be operational. The room has been thoroughly trashed. However, there is no evidence of anyone being injured. Oh, wait … yeah ... found a tower hidden in a closet; the hard drive is still intact. I'll see if I can get it online. Sarah, you found anything?"

"I'm in the next room. There seems to only be these two rooms, plus a restroom. Furniture smashed in here, too; no computers here. Some filing cabinets but they don't seem to have been touched. Uh oh!"

"What!" Casey and Chuck both exclaimed together.

"Blood trail from the bathroom to the exit. Not much. Looks like someone tried to hide in the bathroom but were found. Probably injured when the door was knocked in. I'm going to see where this trail leads."

Chuck heard a door open and close before he could say anything. He spoke into his comm: "Sarah, where are you going?"

"Blood leads down the hall to the elevators. Amount seems to be growing the further it goes. I'm coming back; Chuck, come open the outside door for me."

While she had been describing the other rooms, Chuck was looking through some of the papers scattered about the floor. There were some printouts that appeared to be bank statements from several local banks, as well as surveillance photos of several men and women at those same banks. As he stuffed all the papers into his shoulder bag a small card fell to the floor. Picking it up, it appeared to be a blank business card, until he turned the card over; there he saw the silhouette of a fox and a diamond.

As soon as he saw it, he flashed on the icon, bringing images of stolen art and jewelry and a shadowy figure that had no face or name, other than: "Le Renard? Who, or what, the hell is that?"

Because of the flash he had not heard Sarah's last statement, so he was startled when she knocked on the door and called out to him, "Chuck! Come let me in."

The flash had left him with a bit of a headache, which surprised him because he had not had one for many months. He finally got the door open and Sarah stepped in, with a puzzled, and worried, look on her face, "Chuck? You okay?"

Before he could respond Casey's urgent voice came over the comm link: "Hey! You guys have to get out of there! Car just pulled up and those two _E-TIGRIS_ agents ran inside. Go, go, go!"

"Sarah, I can't get back through the duct; it's too high to get any leverage. You go and I…."

"No, Chuck! We stay together. Come on, we have to get to the stairs."

"I'm downloading that hard drive. Let me see if it's done." Before she could stop him, Chuck ran back into the other room. "Sarah, get all our stuff together."

77% … 81% … 85% … "Come on, Chuck" … 87% … "It's almost done" … 90% … 93% … Sarah grabbed his shoulder and started to pull … 96% … his hand hovered over the thumb drive … 98% … 100%.

He grabbed the drive and pulled it out as Sarah pulled him to his feet; they ran out the door and sprinted down the hallway.

Sarah was about ten feet ahead of him and pushed through the door to the stairs. Just as Chuck reached the door, he ran into her, as she was backing out of the stairwell, her hands raised. Looking beyond her, Chuck saw a man, with a very large gun pointed at her head. In all the years they had been together, he had never gotten used to seeing her at gunpoint, her life in danger, but still shielding him from attack.

"Mr. & Mrs. Charles. Please come peacefully. We really do not want to harm you." The voice from behind them was accompanied by the sound of several more guns being brought to bear on them.

##########

"Morgan, you see anything?" Casey was shouting into the comm now. He could still hear their breathing, but they weren't speaking.

"No, Casey. I think Chuck shoved the camera in his pocket. I still hear two distinct breathing patterns though."

"Dammit! How could we have fallen for this? How did they get on to us? Morgan, pack all the gear and DO NOT answer the door unless it's me. You got that?"

"On it, Casey. Keeping the door closed and locked."

##########

The men did not speak any more, just motioned with their guns, for the pair to get in the elevator. The two men, who had been on the train, got on the elevator with them, while the other three agents stayed on the sixth floor. Their hands still raised, Chuck and Sarah moved close enough to touch ever so lightly, bringing a bit of calming to each of them.

"What's this about?" Sarah was going to try to draw them out a bit, but these men were not going to be fooled by this woman again. They just kept their guns trained on the couple, their faces emotionless and firm.

As the elevator chimed it's arrival at the ground floor, Sarah looked at Chuck. He had his freak out face on, which relaxed a bit when he looked into the beautiful pair of blue eyes looking tenderly back at him. "Chuck, time to flash." And she flashed her best smile at him.

As the doors opened, and before the men reacted to her statement, the two CIA spies struck. Sarah kicked both their guns out of their hands with one sweep of her highly trained leg. Having flashed, Chuck then followed her lead by grabbing one hand of each of them and twisted inward. Back on both feet now, Sarah punched first one, then the other, and they were both down for the count.

Grabbing his hand, Sarah pulled Chuck out of the elevator and they sprinted across the lobby floor together. "Casey, Morgan, we are going to get away from here. You stay put. We'll call you as soon as it's safe."

Before either of them could respond, they heard their friends' comms go dead. "Morgan, find some way to track them; do it now!"

The agents' car was sitting on the street just outside the building and Chuck started towards it, but Sarah had spied something else. She pulled him to the right and they quickly crossed the street.

"What … where are we going? Sarah, we need to get away."

"And we are, Chuck … trust me." Running into a parking lot, she led him to a black or dark blue, low slung car. He immediately realized it was a Porsche 911, very similar to her car back home. Before he could speak she had pulled out a set of tools and quickly opened the passenger door. "Get in … and hit the unlock button."

Chuck had barely gotten his seatbelt on before she brought the engine to a powerful throb of pent up energy. She slammed it into gear and sent smoke soaring as she spun the wheels. This was a high performance machine, and the high performance female behind the wheel quickly became one with the power that was ready and willing to do her bidding.

Racing onto _Tiefenhöfe_ she turned left and accelerated, shoving Chuck deeply into his seat. Quickly braking, she turned right on _Talstrasse_, and again accelerated. With a death grip on the arm rests he was trying his best to hold back the girlish screams that wanted to erupt from his throat. Sliding around the corner this time, Sarah took them to the left, now on _Bleicherweg_ and chicaned around and through the slower moving traffic. "Damn! I had hoped we could avoid any traffic at this hour." She tried to maneuver to the right but a lumbering truck blocked her planned route and she shot past the ramp she had hoped to take.

"Hope you're up for a little detour, Chuck; just missed out turnoff." He looked over at the woman sitting behind the wheel and saw the all spy girl set on her face. And yet, it was still the most lovely face he had ever seen: the soft, smooth skin flowing from her brow, across the well-shaped cheekbones, around her full and sensuous lips, and down her long neck. _Jeez, Chuck! We're running for our lives at 100 kph through the middle of Zurich, and you're about to have an org…._

That thought was stopped short as he was thrown against the door as she spun the wheel and pivoted around a corner, narrowly missing, first, an oncoming car, and second, the power pole on the far corner of the intersection. Now she was accelerating again, the adrenaline continuing to surge through them both. They had gotten away from most of the traffic now, but Sarah didn't slow down at all. They sailed over a couple of rises in the street, bouncing slightly when they landed.

"Chuck, there's a car behind us. Try to keep an eye on them and see if they are following us."

"O-o-okay. Sarah, can I just take this moment to tell you just how beautiful you are right now?"

"Not now, Chuck." But then she smiled, and shot a glance from those formidable blue eyes, at him, "Thank you. Now focus, Chuck, focus." _I'm going to have to practice turning the spy and the woman in me, on and off as needed._

They were approaching _Stockerstrasse_ where there was more traffic. In addition, they saw three sets of blue, flashing lights coming towards them. "Sarah...," the pitch of Chuck's voice had gone up an octave or so as he pointed ahead, "Sarah…."

"I see them … I see them!"

"Uh, and the car behind us has almost caught us."

Sarah looked into her mirror, then back at the scene ahead. "Chuck, hold on tight!"

Suddenly Sarah jerked the wheel to the left and the car quickly responded by going into a spin while continuing towards the intersection. Chuck let out a yell … well, closer to a squeal … as they wildly spun around 360 degrees. The police cars ahead had been arranged into a roadblock, while the Porsche continued to spin towards them. Losing track of exactly where they were in the spin, Chuck became totally disoriented as he failed to focus on anything stationary. Now, closing in on 720 degrees of spin, Sarah began coordinating light taps on the brakes with minor steering adjustments: the spin began to slow. They spun another 90 degrees as they entered the intersection, sliding between two other cars, one from each direction of cross traffic, and came to a stop; the Porsche gently tapped against one of the police car's bumper. Now stabilized, Sarah instantly shifted and pounded the accelerator into the floor; the car shot forward, now traveling down _Stockerstrasse_, away from the barricade. Looking in her rearview mirror, Sarah watched the car that had been following them slam into the police cars, effectively eliminating all four cars from following them. She smiled.

"Wo-wo-wo-wow! Sarah, that was … (gulp) … amazing!"

"Nothing really too hard, Chuck, once I saw the patch of ice that would let us spin twice. Just wasn't sure if I could stop it on time; sorry if I scared you." She looked over at her handsome boyfriend, who was wearing that adorable, crooked smile that always came when he was caught off guard, and overwhelmed by their situation. His eyebrows relaxed into their normal place when she reached out, took his hand in her's, and gave it a strong squeeze.

"I think we need to get out of the city for a while."


	3. 3 Find Them!

A/N: Thanks to phnxgrl, I find that FanFic has edited out my scene change indicators. My apologies to anyone who was confused trying to read this. I hope I haven't lost anyone due to this. All other mistakes are mine and mine alone.

This chapter doesn't have as much action but does introduce more of the characters, and gives more hints as to just what is going on. I hope you enjoy it.

Again, Happy Birthday to **Lost in My Addiction**, who's kind request led me to this time and place.

As to disclaimers, I do not own Warner, Bros., nbc, Chuck, Flumserberg Ski Resort, any bank anywhere in the world, a cottage or castle in Switzerland, or Cliffs Notes. You can sue me but all I have to offer is my mortgage, car payment, and daughter's college loans.

Enjoy!

**3. Find Them!**

Casey raced down the stairs and into their room, threw his rifle on his bed, and asked, "Anything?"

"No. I saw them get into a car, which by the way, looked just like Sarah's back home, but lost them as soon as they went around the corner. A minute or so later the guys from _E-PLURIBRIS_ ran out and took off in their car. I just don't have the equipment, or skills, to track them from here."

"It's_ E-TIGRIS_, moron. Call Beckman." Not waiting for a response, Casey went to the bathroom and threw cold water on his face. He then cupped his hands for a drink while thinking: _Shouldn't have let them go...too distracted with each other._

Beckman came on the screen just as he walked back into the room and he gave her the sitrep. At the same time, Morgan sent her a copy of the video Chuck shot in the CIA office. "Gentlemen, there is nothing I can do for you; you know the rules. But, Colonel: FIND THEM!"

Feeling older than he ever had, Casey sat on his bed and pondered the situation, but...

"What do we do now Casey? And what did she mean: 'you know the rules?'" Morgan had leaped to his feet, his voice going higher in pitch, with a pleading quality to it. Casey could only shake his head.

This was still Grimes' first time abroad … on a mission … and he was just plain scared; he had watched his best friend drive away with no way to contact him. The only thing that was keeping his panic to a mere hysterical level was that Chuck was with Sarah. If he knew anything at all, it was that that girl would go to the ends of the earth to keep Chuck safe.

"It's simple, Grimes: we are on our own here; no help will be forthcoming; we do not exist."

Morgan Grimes hit the floor in a dead faint.

##########

After a few more turns, now at a normal, sane speed, and pulling over once to neck with Chuck as a police car drove by, Sarah pulled the car onto the A3 Toll Road. A sign indicated they were headed to _Flumserberg Ski Resort_. Now that they were on a fairly straight highway, with no traffic, Chuck finally felt his grip of the armrests begin to relax.

"So, Chuck, what did you flash on back in the office?"

"Oh yeah. Let me get my bag." Reaching behind him, he grabbed the bag and pulled out the papers he had taken from the office. "Let's see ... there are bank spreadsheets that I will have to look over in better light. Then some pics of bank officers. I flashed on one: Jacques Lemieux. _Graubündner Kantonalbank _VP for global investments. Rumors have it he has been known to womanize a bit and may have come under the control of an underworld mob. Then there is Maria Romanina, trading and stock exchange officer at _Lombard, Odier, Darier, Hentsch & Cie._ She is twice widowed, both times under suspicious circumstances. And last, but certainly not least, is Jacques DeMorieux. President of _Banque Cantonale Neuchâteloise,_ and a gambler. There's not a broken down horse that he won't put down this month's rent on."

"Picked some winners there sweetie. Huh! I had a run in with Romanina back in 2002 ..." Chuck's head shot up to look at Sarah, but her face told him nothing, "… not a nice person. Anything else?"

"No, but I'll look it all over again when we get to…. Oh, wait …" he scrambled around in the bottom of the bag... "there was a card ... here it is: all it has is a picture of a fox and a diamond."

"_Le Renard_.…"

"Whoa-whoa-whoa. You know this symbol? What's a _Le Renard_?"

"_Le Renard: The Fox._ Not what … who ... jewel thief, art thief. Damn!" She slammed the steering wheel in frustration.

"I got some of that in a flash, but little else. Who is he?"

"We don't even know if he's a he, Chuck. No one has ever discovered his identity, where he lives, nothing; just that he is very, very good. There are even rumors going back some fifty years or more. Oh, and there's an accomplice that we know even less about." She paused with her lips pulled to the right; Chuck knew this was her contemplative look, so he waited for her to continue. Finally: "Well, this is quite a Who's Who. And how does it all tie into the CIA?" With that, Sarah reached over and took Chuck's hand, squeezing it lightly. They sat quietly, tuning over all these facts, as they flew down the now deserted highway.

##########

"Inspector, this is unacceptable. Twice now they have slipped through your fingers."

"These two are more than mere thieves, sir. They took us out in the elevator with speed and skills beyond anything I have ever seen."

"That's a crap load of excuses, mister. You're suppose to be our best."

"Sir.…"

"No more, Inspector: FIND THEM."

##########

As they neared the resort, Sarah turned off onto a snow covered, rutted, side road. The Porsche, for all it's sleek speed and power, was not built for this terrain. Bouncing around, Chuck hit his head several times on the roof. Finally Sarah drove between two tall evergreens and up to the garage door of a stone building. "Sweetie, will you go open the garage door? It will be unlocked."

"Uh, babe, where are we?"

"I'll explain when we get inside." Smiling at her man, Sarah tried to reassure him, and saw his shoulders relax a bit as he opened the door and slid out.

The snow was powdery enough that he didn't slip or slide, but his feet were instantly cold and wet. She pulled the car inside and he closed the door behind her. Getting out she stretched, displaying her fetching frame. Looking at him now, Sarah beckoned with one finger sensually.

Walking over to her, Chuck took her in his arms and whispered, "Here?"

"We'll, it's not my most unusual ... and there is a bed upstairs."

"And you think it's safe here. "

"Oh yeah, Chuck, it's safe. Now, are you coming upstairs, or do I get the bed all to myself?"

##########

"We've spent good money on acquiring these sources, and now you tell me they know nothing? Just what are we paying them for; or am I paying you, for that matter?"

"Sir, these people are … how do you say … uh … wild cards. They just appeared today, and we have no idea how, or why, they were at the offices."

"Not good enough, Heinrich. Put the squeeze on the bankers … they owe us; the hostages, too. You've got 24 hours: now … FIND THEM!"

##########

Sarah was instantly awake when she heard the door downstairs. She didn't want to move; they were in a favorite position, second only to her lying draped across Chuck's chest: each on their left side, spooned together, touching head to toe, his head buried in her hair, her feet warmly covered by his, their hands, as usual, entwined on her hip.

But she had to find out who had just entered the cottage. She gently moved out of Chuck's grasp, hoping she wouldn't wake him, and pulled on her blouse and slacks. The floor was cold on her bare feet, but this allowed her to move silently. There was a half set of steps, just outside their room, leading down to the kitchen. Just as she took her first step down, Chuck came out of the room yawning. Holding up a hand towards him, he stopped in his tracks. Bringing her index finger to her lips, she watched him until he signaled that he understood.

Moving on down the stairs, she saw a man in the kitchen pulling eggs and milk out of the refrigerator. She stealthily moved to stand behind the man, pressed her index finger just inside his right shoulder blade, six inches below his neck, and said, "Hands empty … up slowly … turn around to your left."

The man's ramrod straight posture, and obvious strong build, belied the thick, pure white hair on his head. His hands were just above shoulder level, a ninety degree angle at his elbows, as he moved, an eighth of a turn with each step. His face was quite handsome, with wrinkles that were always described in men as 'distinguished'. Making his final move, to face straight towards Sarah, he lowered his hands half way down while spreading his arms out. A brilliant smile lit up his face and, with a playful European accent, and a roll of the 'R', he exclaimed, "Rebecca!"

Sarah was smiling now, too, and replied, "Maurice, my dear friend!" In the next instant she leaped forward, into his arms, and they embraced in a full out bear hug.

Chuck, still at the top of the stairs, had heard the exchange and now stood there, shock registering across his face. His face was scrunched up now, the vein in the center of his forehead standing out strongly, as he silently mouthed: 'Rebecca?' As the two people in the kitchen pulled out of their embrace he moved down the stairs to join them.

"C'est si bon de vous revoir, cher ami." _(It is so good to see you again, dear friend.)_

It never ceased to amaze Chuck when Sarah spoke in a foreign language; it was just so damned sexy! Even through the shock of the greeting he had just heard, he could feel himself reeling from the desire for her. But he also wished he could understand what was being said. Yes, he could usually flash on a language but, over the years, after flashing on Sarah killing several men, and the fierce look on her face as she shot out the surveillance camera, he had schooled himself to avoid flashing on anything that might have to do with her.

"Ah, Rebecca, ma chère fille, tu as grandi encore plus belle que jamais ... vraiment une femme en pleine floraison." _(Ah, Rebecca, my dear girl, you have grown even lovelier than ever … truly a woman in full bloom.)_ Taking her by the shoulders he looked deeply into her eyes, while she blushed crimson from his compliment. "Mais ... il ya quelque chose de différent, aussi. Hmmmm. Il ya quelque chose.…" _(But … there is something different, too. Hmmmm. There is something.…)_ His voice trailed off as he paused, tapping his index finger on his lips. Suddenly his eyes opened wide, and his smile returned, even warmer than before: "Je le vois maintenant: vous êtes dans l'amour, ma chérie! J'étais tellement inquiet que cela n'arriverait jamais." _(I see it now: you are in love, my darling! I was so worried it would never happen.)_

Chuck had arrived at the bottom of the steps and cleared his throat rather loudly. It was enough to pull Sarah back to the moment. "I could never fool you, Maurice. Uhmmm … sorry … Chuck, come here, please." She held her hand out to the other handsome man … her handsome man! … in the room; the man she was in love with, even if she wasn't ready to say the words aloud; he reached out and took her hand in his. "Chuck, this is an old family friend, Maurice LeClaire. Maurice, my boyfriend, Chuck."

"Nice to meet you, sir." Chuck was still in a state of shock but stuck out his hand to shake hands with the older man. "Didn't know Sarah had friends in Switzerland." His voice had a hint of concern that only Sarah would pick up on, and she squeezed his hand in reassurance.

"Honey, you know how we don't really talk about my family." She looked him in the eyes, trying to silently remind him that some of her secrets were dangerous.

A shadow passed over Maurice's face when Chuck called her Sarah, but it left as quickly as it came. "Rebecca was never one to talk much. It appears you have had an amazing affect on her ... and for that I thank you." There was a short, awkward pause, and then, "I was just going to make breakfast. Will you both join me?"

Once they sat down Maurice looked at Sarah and asked, "So, it's Sarah now? It's a pretty name, but you will always be Rebecca to me."

Reaching over, she placed her hand on his forearm, "I know, and that's fine. Sarah Walker is the name the CIA gave me. I've used others, but this is what I used when I met Chuck. Now it's the only name I want." With this last statement, she moved her attention to Chuck, bringing out her best 'for Chuck only' smile.

He smiled back at her and their hands came together, fingers lacing instantly. Now the two men were linked together through Sarah in the middle.

Breaking the moment, Maurice asked, "Alors ... J'ai vu le bas de la voiture. Est-ce que votre?" (_So ... I saw the car downstairs. Is that your's?)_

"Oh, we had to ... uh ... borrow that, last night in Zurich. Do you think you can take care of that?"

"Of course, my darling, anything for you."

Chuck had so many questions, but was afraid to ask. Now that they were sitting down to eat, his curiosity peaked: "So ... you two ... how do you know each other?"

"Chuuuuuuck…."

"Non, Rebecca, c'est bon. Je pense que l'homme qui a gagné votre cœur mérite de connaître la vérité." _(No, Rebecca, it's alright. I think the man who has won your heart deserves to know the truth.)_

Sarah looked from Chuck to Maurice, and back again. Her old friend shrugged and said, in English this time, "You should not keep secrets from your man, ma chère."

Sarah sighed and finally began: "I was about twelve. Dad and I came to Europe, chasing a high stakes con."

Maurice snorted softly, "Lichtenstein; that's what your father called it … as I recall."

There was a subtle hint of contempt as he said 'father', and Sarah dropped her head, her hair coming around her face to hide the blush. A moment later she lifted her head, and flipped the hair out of her face. "Things went awry, of course, and Maurice came to our rescue. We stayed … to work for him for awhile ... and he and I have been friends … more than friends, actually … ever since. We've helped each other out on occasion since then."

Looking at Chuck, Maurice asked, "Has she told you about the scar on her lower left back?"

"Maurice, il ne faut pas aller là-bas." _(Maurice, let's not go there.)_

"I've asked; she just says it was a lifetime ago."

"It was when she first joined the CIA." Now the contempt was very obvious. "She was seriously wounded by a crazy woman, who has since gone on to bigger and better things … but still a thief and murderer."

Sarah jumped up and began picking up plates, "Okay, I think that's enough reminiscing for one day. Chuck, I'm going to take a shower; care to join me?"

Chuck blushed: he so wanted to join this glorious vixen for a long shower, and all that would entail. But he also wanted to stay and talk to Maurice; he had already learned more about Sarah's past than in the previous two plus years. But in the end, the allure of the beauty standing before him, won out. With a shrug and shy smile, he stood, allowing himself to be pulled back up the stairs.

As they left, Maurice said, with a chuckle, "You kids go have fun. Lunch will be at noon."

##########

"Well, Casey, I've scoured the news and police reports. The only thing that sounds promising is a high speed chase through the city last night about the time Chuck and Sarah were driving away. Four cars ... three police and one civilian … were destroyed, but the one being chased got away. Nothing after that."

"What about the civilian car? Any way to find out who was in it?"

"I tried. I found a newspaper picture of the wreckage. It could be our friends from _E-TWIDDLY_, but I can't confirm that."

"_E-TIGRIS!_ What's the matter with you?" Casey punched up some information on the left screen and studied it for a moment. Then he stood up and walked to the window, where he stood, silently, for several minutes. Finally he turned back to Morgan: "We have to get into that office. We still don't know whose blood Sarah found, or what was on the hard drive that Bartowski downloaded. Let's go…."

"Right behind you, big guy."

About an hour later Casey and Morgan entered the sixth floor offices, across the street from their hotel. They had left the hotel through a service tunnel on the third underground level. Following the tunnel, they had come out at a loading dock one block north, where Casey made Morgan wait until he had ascertained that it was safe to exit.

They walked back to the office building, using an alleyway that ran through the middle of the block. Once back at the building they entered, went to the first maintenance closet they found and picked the lock easily. Inside they found coveralls, although neither could find a good fit. Morgan had to roll up the sleeves and pants' legs, while Casey was splitting the seams out of his. Now carrying tool bags, they moved, in what appeared to be a listless manner, through the building, up to the sixth floor. The door to the CIA offices was unlocked, which set off alarms in Casey's head, and they moved inside quickly.

His gun out, Casey stopped Morgan just inside the door, and then moved efficiently around the small suite. There was no one there and he called Morgan over to the restroom. "There's a kit in the bag; you need to take blood samples from the carpet, restroom floor, and lavatory. I don't know if we can still get anything from them but maybe we can tell how many people were injured."

Morgan set to work while Casey moved to the other room, looking for the computer. The furniture, most of it splintered and broken, was now piled in the center of the room, which was not how he remembered it from the video feed. _Someone else has been here since Walker and Bartowski._ He knew that the computer he was looking for had been in a closet in the west wall. Now that closet was empty, the door torn off its hinges. _Crap!_

"Okay, Casey, I've got the blood samples. Now can we get out of here? It's really spooky in here."

"Spooky … is that an official spy term you've learned?"

"Go ahead, Casey, make fun of me. But I'm telling you, something is off."

Casey had just grunted one of his many, 'you're disgusting, Grimes,' grunts, when he spied something shiny in the far corner, under the, now shredded, drapes. Picking up his bag and gun, he walked over and knelt down. Pushing the material back with the barrel of his gun, he reached down and picked up a long, narrow, shiny band. Looking at it carefully he took in a long, hard breath, and whistled softly. What he was holding appeared to be a jewel encrusted bracelet. If real, this was not just bling, but worth tens of thousands of dollars. Stuffing it in his pocket before Grimes could see it, he stood and motioned to the door. "Let's go, before the boogeyman gets you."

##########

After a long and wonderful shower, Sarah and Chuck donned only their underwear and stretched out on the bed, dozing off and on, between gentle caresses and kisses. Chuck suddenly awoke, a scream trying to erupt from his lips, while he panted breathlessly, covered in sweat. He didn't know why, but he seemed to remember being alone and afraid. _Must have been a dream._

He looked over at his girlfriend, the most beautiful woman he had ever known, and smiled. _How can I possibly have been this lucky?_

Stirring now, Sarah moved to cuddle closer, and was startled by the still hard breathing man next to her. She sat up, a hand on his chest, "Chuck, are you alright? Why are you panting?"

"Well, if you mean besides lying here, holding the lovely ... and nearly naked ... Sarah Walker, I'm not sure."

Chuckling, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. Pulling back, she looked deeply into the most romantic pair of eyes she had ever known: "You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"

"Of course, babe. Nothing to worry about here."

"Chuck, sweetie, I know you have a lot of questions about Maurice, but can we wait until the mission is over? Please?"

"Sarah, as long as you trust him, that's good enough for me. But, yeah, you two have an interesting dynamic that I would like to know about."

"Thank you for trusting him … trusting me."

"That is not, nor will it ever be, in doubt! Just one little question, though: do you see him as a father figure, an uncle, older brother…"

"I've never really thought about putting a name to it. Uncle may be the closest description, although, in some ways, he has been more of a father to me, than my own. He always wanted me to get out of the life ... especially the spy life ... after I joined the CIA."

"I noticed his displeasure when that came up."

Chuck turned onto his side, raised up on one elbow, and looked lovingly at the incredible woman next to him. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and then took her full, lower lip between his lips, and gently tugged on it, until he eliciting a deep moan from her. She pulled him to her, strongly pressing their bodies against one another, as their mutual desire once again overtook them.

##########

Inspector Mario DeBarné, had been with _Einsatzgruppe TIGRIS_ for twelve years, with an exemplary record. He was the lead investigator for the _IMCU:_ International Monetary Crimes Unit, responsible for keeping the banks of Switzerland safe from outside criminals, while making sure the banks committed no crimes against the country.

And he was baffled!

He knew there was a conspiracy growing in power daily. He knew there was inside information being traded to a cartel of international interests. He knew mercenaries had been hired to take over computer systems and worm their way into the banks' security systems. He had even discovered a small team, operating in Zurich, scrutinizing three specific banks, all of which he knew were targets in the overall operation.

But that was as far as he seemed to be able to advance. His team of six Inspectors sifted through security tapes, both inside and outside the banks, followed up on random leads, and communicated with Interpol and other nations' authorities. And every lead dried up; every person of interest checked out; every anomaly was explained.

Then, two days ago, Interpol had alerted them to a possible connection. There was a team of Americans operating on a train from Paris headed to Zurich. On this team was a man who had been identified as a sixty-seven percent positive match to an art thief that had also been linked to the _Graubündner Kantonalbank,_ one of the suspected target banks. He and his Number Two, Inspector Jean Burkart, found the team, followed them, and then lost them in a startling move by the man and woman who appeared to be married: a Mr. and Mrs. Charles Charles.

He shook his head and wiped his brow as he remembered the woman: blonde and blue eyed, tall, slim, and shapely, she moved like a cat. But they had discovered how lethal she was, too. He admitted, at least to himself, that both he and Burkart were distracted by her beauty, seeing it up close in the elevator. Then she had said "Switzerland" to her partner and smiled. And what a smile it was, taking their breath away. In a blink of an eye, she kicked both his and Burkart's guns away, and the man was practically twisting his arm out of the socket. A quick punch from the woman and he was on the floor, head spinning, stars flashing through his mind. _Sure wish she wasn't our enemy; what a weapon for good she could be._

Even after getting help from the _Kantonspolizei Zürich,_ the couple escaped a third time, after an amazing display of driving. In the process, both he and Burkart were injured in the ensuing car crash. Burkart would be laid up several days, and he was nursing a concussion and badly bruised legs.

Just who, and what, were they up against here? When would they get a break? How could they find these ghosts, who appeared and disappeared at will?

##########

"Sir, our sources are telling us there is a clandestine team operating here in Zurich. We have no specifics as yet, but this should help us narrow down the search. In addition, it appears _E-TIGRIS_ has identified _Le Renard_. We can follow their progress in the search for him, in order to see if we need to make any adjustments in the plan."

"Do we know who is leading the _E-TIGRIS_ team?"

"Yes, sir. It is Inspectors DeBarné and Burkart. However, Burkart was injured last night, in an automobile accident, and may be out of service for a bit."

"They are both very good; having one out is a bonus for us. That will leave our old friend, DeBarné, more vulnerable. Put a tail on him. If he starts getting close, kill him."

"Yes, sir. It will be done immediately. One other item, sir: Madame Romanina has been inquiring as to the timetable. What should I tell her?"

"Just tell her to do her job and stop worrying about mine. She will know, when it is necessary for her to know. Bitch!"

"Excellent, sir."

"Have we gotten anything out of the two hostages from the office?"

"No, sir. The one who was injured has not regained consciousness. The other one has resisted all attempts to question him. We have begun to think they must work for some governmental organization, and have training to resist the questioning."

"Cut our losses now: kill them!"

"Yes, sir." The man quickly withdrew from the inner sanctum of one of Europe's biggest criminal bosses.

Once back at his desk, he reached into his lower desk drawer, withdrew a cell phone, and press one button. It rang one time and then the man spoke quickly and softly, "_E-TIGRIS_ knows; the old man knows. Proceed with caution."

##########

Chuck's phone alarm had buzzed, alerting them that it was nearing lunch time. "Now that you've thoroughly mussed up my hair, sweetie, I'll going to have to work on it again. Why don't you go down and see if Maurice needs any help with lunch? Oh ... and Chuck ... be nice to him."

He so wanted to follow her into the bathroom but just smiled and shook his head as he watched the lovely form of his girlfriend disappear. After a couple of deep breaths and a sigh, he stood up, put on his Chucks, and walked downstairs.

Maurice wasn't there so he used the time to look around. It was a beautiful old home, although the decorating was rather touristy. It didn't look like it was lived in full time, although it was certainly clean and tidy. There were no pictures, papers, or anything, that would give him a clue as to who their host might be.

As he was finishing his brief tour, Maurice entered, carrying three grocery bags. Chuck walked over, took one, and they walked silently, into the kitchen. Once there Maurice turned to face Chuck, "Alright, young man, who are you, and how did you win the heart of ma cherie?"

"I could be asking you, just who you are, as well. Sarah has never mentioned you, even when we arrived last night. I have a lot of … shall we say … resources available to me, yet you aren't known to any of them. Just who are you, and what is your relationship with her?"

The two men were facing each other, squaring off and sizing each other up. Finally, Maurice shrugged and backed off slightly. "What you were told at breakfast is true. Rebecca is my adopted …" he shrugged ... "family … which I was never fortunate enough to have. It grew out of our mutual experiences when she was, first a young teenager, and then as a young CIA agent. We have taken care of each other on numerous occasions."

Chuck felt himself relaxing a bit now, too, "Sarah came into my life as my handler, and I immediately fell for her. She tried to followed all the rules of a handler, and kept me at a distance, but it became harder and harder. Anyway, after a lot of ups and downs, we have very recently come together as a couple. I do not deserve her, I don't know how a nerd like me could win over a woman like her, but I love her with my heart and soul."

"Then it will be a pleasure to call you mon ami. This makes me very happy for my darling Rebecca. Her safety and well-being are of a highest priority with me."

"As it is with me, sir. On that, we will always agree."

"Please … Chuck … call me Maurice. If you are her family, then you are mine as well. Now, what can you tell me of this mission you are on."

Chuck gave him the _Cliffs Notes_ version, from the time they left for Zurich on the train. He didn't go into specifics at this point, not knowing exactly what Sarah would want him to reveal.

The two men worked as they talked, preparing a simple luncheon of soup and salad, getting everything set on the table just as Sarah joined them. Maurice once again embraced her, kissing both her cheeks, while Chuck looked on, delighted to see Sarah so happy; but also envious of the long history these two shared.

As they started to eat, Sarah asked Maurice, "We have reason to believe _Le Renard_ is involved in this somehow. What have you heard recently? Could he still be active?"

Maurice snorted softly, "_Le Renard_ … he's a hack!" He shook his head with a firm set of his lips. Then leaning forward, elbows on the table, he steepled his fingers together: "This is the third reincarnation; and a poor imitation of his predecessors. The original, a true artisté, if he's still alive, would be nearly a hundred years old. The one you and your dad tangled with was strictly an art connoisseur, and wouldn't be involved in anything like this; but he is a paraplegic now … car accident. This new one, who apparently trained with the second, has decent skills but no finesse, no eye for the best artifacts, plays too loose and free, allowing the authorities to start to get a handle on his identity. That's why I know so much … more than about either of the previous two. But the real question is, why would any cat burglar be involved in a political action? No self-respecting brigand would even care … they care only for themselves."

"Now Maurice, don't sell yo … the profession short. Many have been social activists, philanthropists, friends and family, all while relieving the wealthy of their obsessions." Sarah had a demure smile on her face, while her old friend suddenly choked and began coughing, his face turning red.

Chuck watched this exchange with interest, wondering if he had truly picked up on Sarah's small faux pas. Wanting to lessen the tension that had suddenly appeared, Chuck looked at Sarah and asked, "Honey, we really need to call Casey and Morgan. They have to be completely nuts by now."

"Very true, Chuck, very true." Maurice's coughing had subsided by now so she turned to him, "We have two friends in Zurich; I'm afraid to use our phone to contact them. Do you have a secure way for us to call them?"

"Certainly. Let's finish up here and then I will take you up to DuPont."

"DuPont?"

"It's the main building here ... it's sort of a castle; Maurice lives up there. This is just the gatekeeper's cottage." Chuck's eyes once again opened to their fullest, as he continued to be shocked by the fairytale world he had somehow stepped into.

##########

Casey was seething. If Chuck and Sarah had walked through the door right now, he wasn't sure if he would curse them, punch them, or kiss … _no, even then I wouldn't do that._

He had called several contacts of his own through the night but there was no word about a rogue team, a kidnapping, or, heaven forbid, a murdered couple.

When Morgan had fainted, Casey just threw his hands in the air and grunted. He grabbed the ice bucket off the counter, filled it with water, and dumped the water on the moron's head. Grimes sputtered and coughed, before finally sitting up; Casey threw him a towel. After wiping his face, he looked up at the big man, "Really, Casey?" He wiped his hair and neck again, before continuing, "Will Beckman really just leave us hanging out here?"

"Ungh. Life of a spy. Get over it. We'll find them ... then it won't be an issue.

Morgan had also continued to search, by computer, but to no avail. Casey had paced through the night, but Morgan finally crashed, falling asleep, leaning on the computer keyboard. Casey just let him sleep on; it was a lot quieter when the moron wasn't pestering him with silly questions all morning.

Grimes jerked upright, looking around in a confused state, when the room phone rang shrilly. Casey pounced on it, "Hello." (pause) "In ten … got it." (pause) "Two five by nine four … set."

He hung up and looked at Morgan, "That was Walker. We can call her with your cell in ten minutes."

"And what about Chuck? Is he okay? Where are they? When will they return?"

"Shut. Up. Grimes. All she gave me was the password and time code. Obviously she is fine; let's just assume that Bartowski is likewise."

##########

Right on the ten minute mark, Maurice's communications station came online, a call was incoming, being identified as a cell phone registered to one Morgan Grimes. Maurice threw several switches and Chuck saw notifications appear on the monitor indicating three separate signal scramblers were now operational.

Maurice tapped Sarah on the shoulder twice and she flipped another switch and said, "One Zero."

Casey's voice replied through the large, wall mounted speaker, "Three Six."

"Sarah once again replied, "Three, six, zero."

"Walker, where the hell are you?" Casey's shout came through loudly enough to be heard, probably in the next town.

Maurice adjusted the volume as Sarah replied. "Hi Casey. We're fine, thank you. We are near the _Flumserberg Ski Resort_, in a safe house I knew about. What is…."

Before she could finish, Casey interrupted, "Okay, sit tight, we'll be there in a couple hours."

"No, no, Casey. You can't come here; at least not yet. Have you two found out anything new?"

"Nothing on this end. We went back to the offices and took blood samples; still waiting on the results. Found a diamond bracelet worth about twenty years of CIA or NSA pay. No idea what it was doing there."

"Interesting. Can you take a picture and send it to us?"

"Grimes, get on that."

"Casey, sorry we worried you, but your friends from _E-TIGRIS_ were on our tails. I thought this would be the best for all. It would take the attention away from the offices, and you, and would get us to a place I could trust."

"Ungh! Well, Beckman is disavowing us for now, so it's just us out here."

"Great; just great. Okay ... listen ... I have a source up here. Let me find out what I can here and get back to you. We will call you, times two; 2330 hours."

"If I don't hear from you, Walker, I'm coming up there."

"Thanks, Casey, we appreciate it. Talk soon."

##########

The man, small of stature but well muscled, crawled through the access tunnel. His companion followed closely behind. At the third left turn he moved through an access panel, into a space the size of a small walk-in closet. Donning a pair of infrared glasses he could see the laser beams criss-crossing the room on the other side of the plexiglas window. Removing a small tool from his hip pouch, he cut a one foot square hole in the plexiglas.

"Come here, Doolittle. Are you ready buddy? You know what to do; I will give you instructions as you go. Just take your time."

With that, he helped his 'assistant' through the hole and watched him begin his trek across the room to the alarm control panel.


	4. 4 Is It A Fairy Tale?

**A/N: **Sorry, sorry, sorry. I can't believe this chapter has taken so long. It appears that the odd numbered chapters come pretty easily and the even numbers are a struggle. Will try to work on that.

A big thank you to all of you who followed, favorited, and reviewed the previous chapters. You are the inspiration to continue. And, of course, thanks to **_Lost In My Addiction_**, for the request to write this story.

I have been remiss in apologizing if any of the translations are incorrect. I am relying on Goggle Translate and I hope he/she/it knows what they are doing.

All the usual disclaimers go here. So on with our tale...

**4. Is It A Fairy Tale?**

Chuck was still in a state of total amazement. He hadn't expected anything like what he found in Maurice's home … the castle _DuPont_. It was an amazing contrast of Middle Ages feudal castle design and Twenty-First Century luxury.

If Chuck had been amazed at the castle as a whole, the sight of their host's Communications Room, had him panting in disbelief and desire. Banks of computer stations and monitors lines three walls; four large tables were spaced through the center of the room, each with different tools or equipment neatly arrayed on smaller, side tables; and he walked around, absorbing it all. Chuck had flashed several times since entering _DuPont_, each time leaving a little more residual headache. From his Nerd Herd experience to the flashes, he could tell that all the equipment was state-of-the-art: NASA and the DOD would be envious of the sophistication level in this room.

_flashback…._

They walked up a steep, stone path, Maurice leading the way; Chuck and Sarah, hand in hand, following. Of course, Sarah had known where they were going, but she was eager to see Chuck's reaction.

The path had narrowed, with thick evergreens on each side, forming a canopy overhead. They came to a sharp left turn: Chuck looked up and froze, stunned beyond all belief.

Sarah's smile had grown to its full, electric brightness as she watched the emotions track across her Chuck's face and through his eyes.

Before them was a sheer wall of stone, rising thirty meters, to the square wave parapet atop the wall, where defenders of old had rained down arrows and fire upon their enemies. From somewhere inside the compound, rising higher still, were two towers, each sporting balconies near the top. Even being able to only see a small portion of the enormous structure, Chuck's senses were completely overloaded.

"S-S-S-Sarah," he stammered in a whisper, "this … this is … uh … whew … uh, _DuPont_?"

"Yeah, honey, this is Maurice's home. Come on, let's go inside."

They walked across the stone bridge and through a normal size door, set into a huge, thick wooden gate. Walking through a short, narrow passageway, they entered the main receiving hall. "Oh my God ... Sarah! This is big enough to fit the entire Echo Park apartment complex inside."

"You should see it decorated at Christmas time, sweetheart. Maurice hosts a childrens' festival here every year." Sarah was practically giddy as she held tightly to Chuck's arm, pulling him across the floor and spinning him around to see the entire space.

She always felt enchanted here, but this time was extra special because, for the first time, she had someone with which to share it. She was young enough on her first visit, to still have thoughts of the princesses she read about and watched in the movies. But her subsequent visits came as a CIA operative, and those dreams had been thoroughly squashed. Even then, she had felt the real world recede and the magic rise, at least a little bit. Now, those earliest feelings were filling her heart with joy and happiness like she had never experienced before. It was all due to the compassionate, loving man standing next to her. Her Chuck … those two words had continually echoed through her mind since those magical moments in a Paris hotel room, when they had both thrown their fears and doubts away, and come together.

_the present…._

She was shaken from her reverie when she heard, "Rebecca, ma chérie, you can give him the tour afterwards. We need to get to work now."

Chuck just stood in awe, slowly turning in circles. Sarah nodded to her old friend, but the smile never left her face. He was correct, of course: now they were on a mission and she needed to kick into spy mode. Taking Chuck's hand, she guided him to the doorway in the right wall, where Maurice had disappeared.

Shaking his head and momentarily closing his eyes, he spoke in a hushed tone, "Wh-wh-what kind of work does he do in here?"

"Don't ask, Chuck. Just know that he will do anything for me." Sarah was looking at him with concern now. She heard the strain in his voice. "What's the matter, honey?"

"Just overwhelmed with it all, sweetie. Let's call Casey and see what's going on."

Sarah led him to the monitor station where Maurice was working, her mind in overdrive, wondering just what it was she had heard in the undertones of his denial.

#####

Casey was still pacing the floor. "Casey, you've just about worn a hole in the carpet. Please sit down."

"Ungh! You do whatever it is you do, moron, and I'll do what I do." But he did stop long enough to stare at the bearded gnome. Several seconds later he spoke again, as he resumed his pacing, "Trouble is, I'm a man of action, but there is nothing to do but wait for Walker to call again."

Just as he was finishing, the television beeped twice, and the face of General Beckman appeared. "Col. Casey, Mr. Grimes, have you heard from Walker and Bartowski?" Right to the point, as always.

"Yes, General. Walker called. They are holed up about an hour from here, in a safe house she knew about. She is working on something and will be getting back to us late tonight."

"I, too, have some news … unpleasant news, unfortunately." Casey and Grimes exchanged glances as she continued. "The bodies of two men have been found in the river north of Zurich. They are the two agents who were working out of the office across the street. They appear to have been killed in gangland style. I am sending their names, pictures, and pertinent information now." She reached in front of her and pushed a couple of buttons.

"I have received more information as to their mission as well. It appears this was not a typical CIA station. Rather, they were working outside normal channels. The CIA has been tracking a potential takeover of several Swiss banks that could result in large sums of money being funneled to several organizations, from criminal to terrorist. It could also mean the merging of the banks into a cartel of violence and crime, with the takeover of the assets of virtually every western European arms manufacturer."

Casey whistled, something Grimes had never heard him do before. "That's quite a laundry list. I assume, because they are dead, someone found out about them."

"That is our assessment, Colonel. There has been a cat burglar operating in Switzerland known only as _Le Renard_. We think he may have been hired by the cartel, resulting in him stumbling into the operation."

"What do you want us to do now?"

"Nothing until you hear again from Walker; see what she finds out; whether it confirms our theory or not. Then we can formulate a plan. Be careful, gentlemen."

"Ungh. How do we get into these messes…?"

#####

"Here's the trail. It has to be _Le Renard_, because he is so sloppy. The original would never have left such a trail."

"But the original never had to contend with computerized security systems and…."

Maurice flashed a withering look at Chuck and Sarah put a hand on the younger man's shoulder to stop him from continuing.

"Let me assure you, the original _Le Renard_ would have studied, and learned, and been better than any of the programmers. He was a master. This … impostor ... is too lazy and egotistical. That is why we will catch him this time."

Sarah took Chuck by the elbow and pulled him back a half dozen steps. "Chuck, sweetheart, please let Maurice work his magic, or we will be working on this alone." The three creases between Sarah's eyes deepened and her blue eyes were menacingly dark. "We need him."

_But how can I know if you don't tell me anything about him?_ He put on his best _I'm sorry, Sarah_ face and touched her cheek lightly. "Okay, Sarah, _for you_." The final two words were said so softly she felt them more than heard them. Then, looking over her shoulder: "I'm sorry Maurice; I tend to live by foot-in-mouth disease."

Maurice turned back to the monitor without a comment. "There's no video feed but we can follow the trail through the air ducts and into the security observation room. Then nothing until he enters the gallery. So we still don't know how he got around the room security.

"We know that he took two Giannini Pizzaro sculptures, valued at ten thousand US. As I've said, a novice: he left the three priceless Giotto's."

"Could he have a contract to procure just those pieces? Or have a problem carrying them out?"

"No, Rebecca. No one wants the Pizzaro's, except the new monied tech company teenagers who know no differently, while the Giotto's could be cut out of the frames and put in one tube. No, he just doesn't know what he had within his grasp."

"So where does that leave us?"

"You two need to go to the gallery to try to determine how he got in. While you do that, I will try to determine his next victim; then we can be there, waiting for him."

"Sounds like a plan. Can you outfit us?"

"But of course. You know where everything is."

#####

The junior detective ran from the tech lab all the way up four flights of stairs, down the hall and through two outer offices, to Inspector DeBarné's office. Breathing heavily, he knocked, and then entered the office. The Inspector, who was standing at the window with a cup of coffee, turned and smiled at the red faced young officer. _He's going to be a good one._ "Yes, Luc, what is it?"

"We have identified one of the men we caught on the surveillance tape. It is Col. John Casey, United States NSA agent. He has been working with the CIA for the past three years."

"And the other man?"

"Nothing, sir. He is a complete unknown."

"Very well. And we still have no idea about what was going on in the office?"

"No, sir. All the computers were destroyed. In fact, we don't even know who installed the surveillance equipment."

"Strange." He tapped the fingers of his right hand on the rim of the coffee cup before continuing, "Start doing a search to see if you can find where Col. Casey is staying here in Zurich. Let me know the instant you find something." The young officer turned and started out of the office. "Oh, and Luc, next time call me instead of running all the way up here."

"Yes, sir…."

#####

The three bankers, with Maria Romanina in the lead, stormed through the open air entrance to a modern office building in downtown Zurich. A receptionist tried to stop them but the statuesque woman shoved her aside, and they entered the elevator labeled _Private_. When the doors opens on the tenth floor, they were met by two men, firearms drawn, a determined set to their face.

Heinrich Buchheit stood behind the men and spoke, "We were not expecting you: you were told not to contact us."

Romanina moved forward until one of the handguns contacted her chest, just over the heart, "And I told you we need answers. If you expect us to continue this … project … then call off your dogs and we will all sit down together. Otherwise, I hope you have more security guards then these two."

Buchheit locked eyes with her, the tension mounting as the seconds ticked by. Lemieux and DeMorieux, still in the far back corners of the elevator, were conspicuously sweating in their expensive suits.

Despite the well maintained ventilation of the modern office building, the air around the six people grew warm and stale, yet still the lock of eyes between the man and woman did not break. Footsteps on the hardwood floor came nearer until a deep voice broke the silence, "Gentlemen, Mme. Romanina, please, this is not the time or place for an honest conversation. Come, let us adjourn to the conference room."

The two security men quickly backed away and lowered their weapons. They did not, however, turn their backs on the woman. The two other bankers each sighed audibly and moved forward. But Buchheit and Romanina continued to hold each others' eyes, the menace in each obvious to one and all. But there was also something else in both their eyes ... something that no one else noticed.

#####

_Le Renard_ poured himself another scotch and sat down on the floor, next to a small dog. After downing the drink in one swallow, he picked up the animal and examined his right, rear paw. "So how's the paw feeling today, Doolittle? Do you think you can work tonight?" Doolittle looked at his master with bright eyes and a wagging tail. "Attaboy, pup. This one will be easy; then we can take a break from it all."

The door to the apartment opened with a crash and a tall man entered, dropping a bag of groceries in the process. Several expletives, all in German, followed, punctuated with the slamming of the door, this time closed.

_Le Renard_ put the dog back on the carpet and stood slowly, picking up a couple of oranges as he did so.

The man at the door froze, staring at him, as he continued to pick up the spilled food.

"What are you doing here, Johann?"

"I told you not to call me that, brother."

"And I refuse to call you _Le Renard_. What a stupid moniker."

"I didn't give it to myself; it was the police and the newspapers. But now, I like it; and it keeps my other name out of the database."

"Your _real_ name. A. _Real._ Name." Heinrich sighed and looked at his younger brother with disdain. "Again: why are you here? We should not ever be found together."

"And who is going to find us? Okay, okay. Doolittle was hurt in that office break-in that I told you we should never have been involved with in the first place. The veterinarian is just around the corner so I thought we would crash here until time to go out tonight."

"And, where's his collar? That thing is worth more than this apartment."

"Who cares? I'll get something better tonight."

"Is the dog able to continue? This is not a time for you to get caught."

"Not to worry. We did the job at the gallery with no problem. Tonight's will be even easier. Two rooms at the resort and we can get out of this God forsaken country, and off to somewhere warm, preferably in the Caribbean. "

"You're an idiot, Johann."

#####

Sarah wandered back to the communications room. She had often kidded Chuck about overpacking, and now, with Maurice's resources to choose from, he was having difficulty deciding what he needed for the mission.

"Ah, chérie. I have your credentials ready."

"Thank you. We should be ready in a few minutes."

"And so," he paused, looking at her with a mixture of concern and amusement playing across his face, "Chuck…." He just let the name hang there, wondering how she would react to his question.

"Yeah." She said it softly, as she dropped her shoulders and head, feeling the blush rise up her neck and into her cheeks. Looking back up she smiled, "He's really something … but it's so hard to put into words. We've been through so much ... both good and bad."

"He adores you. He would try to run through these stone walls if you asked him to."

"Yes … yes, he would. And he would do the same for anyone he cares about. He's taught me so much about what family and friends mean."

"I never thought I would hear those words coming from you, Rebecca. You have changed so much since I last saw you; all for the good, I might add."

"I've found a home, Maurice. Me: dad's silent partner, Graham's lone wolf. A home: where Chuck's sister is quickly becoming, not only my best friend, but truly my sister; where my NSA partner is older, but a friend I can always rely on; a place I want to return to so I can feel safe and loved. Is it a fairytale? Will I wake up and it will all vanish?"

Maurice had walked over to stand directly in front of his Rebecca. This was the girl he had counseled to get away from her father before she landed in jail … or worse; the young woman he had warned to be ever-vigilant to the pressures the CIA would bring to make her something she would no longer recognize; one whom he had nursed back to health after a serious injury while on a mission. Placing his hands on her shoulders he sighed, "I like him. He is obviously very good for you. How much does he truly know about you?"

"Bits and pieces. He's met dad … even helped get him out of a jam. We went to my high school reunion … as part of a mission. He knows I've killed; that I've been injured; that I have serious commitment issues and walls around my emotions; and I have secrets … secrets that are better left untold."

"Mmmmm … ma chérie. You can not hold back from this man. He is the best thing to ever happen to you. Don't jeopardize that by not tell him the truth … all of it."

"I … I just can't. You know there are some things that are just too sensitive … like Hungary. Too many people could be endangered. I can't protect them all, no matter how much I want to."

"Protect who?" Chuck had walked in the room and heard her last statement.

"Oh ... uh ... hi Chuck. I didn't hear you come in. Oh, we were just talking about old times, and some of the friends who have worked with us that we have to look out for."

"O-okay, Sarah." His words said okay, but his face did not. They had not been able to hide much from each other for a long time, and now that they were lovers, it was even more difficult. She knew there were going to be questions later. Hopefully, the mission would keep Chuck's mind occupied until she could figure out how to answer those questions.

"Now you two, here's how to proceed…."

#####

DeBarné's team had not come up with anything on the Col. Casey or the mystery man, when a call came in from a colleague at Interpol. "Louis, how are you? And to what do I owe this call?"

"Mario, I'm in a rush here, but thought you should know: three bankers, Maria Romanina, Jacques Lemieux, and Jacque DeMorieux, were just seen entering the _Suisse Delamonerie_ office building. Not sure what those three would be doing in the home offices of your most notorious underworld syndicate. We're watching the crooks; you want to keep an eye on the bankers?"

"Thanks for the heads up, my friend. Yes, we'll follow up, and keep you in the loop; you do the same for us. Hey, while I've got you, do you know anything about an United States NSA Col. John Casey?"

"Hmmm … Casey. No, sorry. But I will ask around. Keep your eyes open and head down."

"And the same to you. Thanks."

Picking up his phone again, DeBarné called his acting Number Two, Josef Lasch: "Josef, have we figured out what was going on in that office building?"

"No, sir. But if I had to guess, they were observing someone or something at the

Graub_ündner Kantonalbank."_

"Check the bank roster to see if any of the following work there." Once he had given Lasch the names, he hung up and walked to the white board on the wall. Adding the names of the bankers, he stepped back and shook his head. _Now what?_

#####

Chuck and Sarah arrived at the _Flumserberg Ski Resort _about fifteen minutes after leaving _DePont_. Maurice had loaned them his Saab, but traffic had held down their speed, frustrating Sarah to no end. She really didn't want to draw too much attention anyway, so she settled for gripping the steering wheel too hard, and ignoring Chuck's attempts to relax her with humor.

Pulling into the valet parking area, she slammed on the brakes, put it in Park, and threw the keys at the attendant once she exited. Having been stopped dead in his tracks by the incredibly beautiful woman getting out the car, the poor attendant caught the keys with his face and then stumbled, trying to retrieve them. The eyes of all three attendants followed Sarah all the way inside the building, while none even noticed Chuck as he jogged to keep up with this girlfriend.

He finally did catch her, grabbing her hand and pulling to a stop. She turned on him with a finger raised but the dancing Bartowski eyebrows instantly caught her attention and she instantly felt herself relax, a smile breaking out on her lovely face.

"Saraaahhhhhh," he drew her name out, lifting the pitch on the end, "let's just take a moment here. We don't need to storm into the security office out of control." He leaned down and gave her a quick smooch on the cheek.

As usual, the sight of his grin and bouncing eyebrows made her heart flutter, and she took a slow deep breath as he spoke to her. They had linked both hands now as he leaned in and kissed her … cheek? She was having none of that and brought her left hand up to his cheek, pulling his head around for a lip-locking, water-boiling kiss that caught the attention of everyone in the lobby.

Caught off guard, Chuck's eyes were still open and he realized everyone was staring at them. Pulling back, he whispered, "Everyone's watching us. So much for not drawing attention." They both chuckled, while looking into each others' eyes. Then, drawing in deep, cleansing breaths, they turned and walked quickly to the security office.

"May I help you?" The very large man in the office stood, towering over even Chuck's tall, lean frame.

"We are agents Rebecca Walker and Charles Burton of Interpol. We are on the team working the _Le Renard_ cases, and heard that you had a break-in last night." As Sarah spoke they showed their credentials, also provided by Maurice.

Satisfied with their ID's, the man introduced himself, "I am Tomas Gioletti, head of security. Welcome to Flumserberg. We were not informed that you were coming, but we're glad you're here. You got here awfully fast."

"We were in Zurich, working another lead, when we got the word. Now, if you don't mind, may we see the scene?" Chuck was trying not to appear nervous; Sarah, knowing his tendencies well, managed to brush his hand with her's occasionally, helping him immensely.

"Certainly." He called for another man, in the back room, to man the front office and then offered, "I will take you there personally. Do you really think it is _Le Renard_?"

"We won't know until we see the setup. We suggest you heighten your security measures, just in case. We assume you have a number of extremely wealthy patrons here?"

"There isn't a time that we don't. So the possibility of being targeted by _Le Renard_ is disconcerting. Ah, here we are … the Art Gallery."

Sarah watched him careful: he swiped his card, then punched in three numbers, followed by a hand scan, and five more numbers. She had seen this type of security before and knew she could defeat it if necessary. Of course, they weren't there to break-in, but it was good to know. In the meantime, Chuck was checking the security cameras and determining if there were any infrared or heat sensors in this anteroom. He, too, found the security to be adequate but ordinary.

Before entering the gallery, Sarah stopped and said to the security man: "Don't tell us anything unless we ask. We need to discover things on our own. If you tell us what you found, we may not look beyond that to find anything else. Understood?"

Even though it was an order, she had delivered it with a soft inflection to her voice, putting the guard at ease. He nodded his consent, and then held the door open for them.

Chuck quickly identified the infrared sensors within the room, and then moved on, taking it all in. He had fully expected to flash as he looked over the gallery, but all the equipment was very standard, and his days in the Nerd Herd had given him enough experience, to make the Intersect unnecessary.

Meanwhile, Sarah wandered around by herself. "If someone were to be in the room while the security was active, is there a switch or something in here that would allow them to turn it off?"

"Yes." Gioletti took Chuck to the far wall where there was a small scanner. "If the person had a security card like mine, he could swipe it here. I never understood why this was put here, but the installation team told us this was SOP."

While Chuck studied the scanner, Sarah found the hole in the plexiglas wall, "What is this hole, Officer?"

"We assume that is where the thief entered."

"Was it here prior to the theft?"

"No. We found it after we discovered the burglary."

"But it is so small. Even a contortionist would have to be extremely small to come through here." She sat back on her heels, tapping her lips with her finger. Seeing something odd, she leaned down closely to see more clearly. There was a spot of something dark red on the edge. She took out a swab and specimen tube, and took a sample of the smudge.

"Hey, Charles," she stood and looked at her partner, her heart fluttering ever so slightly at the sight. Not used to being called "Charles", he didn't respond, so she walked over to him. She leaned down, ever so slightly letting her hand brush the back of his head, "Charles. Do you see anything like a dark red splotch of something over here?"

"Hmm? Oh, Sa … er, Rebecca … as a matter of fact, there is something. So you have a sample swab?"

"Of course." She handed him another evidence tube. Standing back up, she turned to Gioletti, "I think that's all we need in here. May we see the room on the other side of the glass?"

"But of course. Boy, you two are something. We didn't catch whatever it is you just found."

"Understandable." She flashed him a small, but brilliant smile: _might as well keep him off balance._ "We've been at this a long time."

They did a quick inspection of the room, finding signs that the thief had come through the ventilation ducts, but nothing more.

"Thank you, Officer Gioletti. If I were a betting man, I would put my money of _Le Renard_. We must return to Zurich, but here is my card. If you should have any indication of more activity, please call. We will return as quickly as possible."

"Thank you Mr. Burton, Ms. Walker. Do you have any recommendations for increasing our security?"

"No, you seem to have it all covered. Just be on your toes."

With a bow, Officer Gioletti turned and entered the security office, while Chuck and Sarah walked through the lobby. "We should come here on vacation sometime."

"It's a nice place, Chuck, but wouldn't you rather stay at _DuPont_?"

"Mmmmm … decisions, decisions." They smiled at each other as their car was brought to the stand.

#####

Casey's phone rang, but he knew it was too early for Walker and Bartowski to call again. "Yes?"

"Monsieur, the skies are blue, but the skiing is lousy."

"Who would waste their time sliding around on sticks?"

"Very good, my friend. I have the results on the blood samples you requested. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"One sample was A+, male, not in any European databases, so probably American. The second is far stranger: it is canine, probably cairn terrier."

"Thank you. I owe you."

"Yes, you do. I will be around to collect some day."

"I look forward to it." Casey disconnected and then dropped the phone of the bed.

"Well, Grimes, what do you know about dogs?"

#####

"Listen, Johann, the bankers think it was you who broke into the gallery, and they are pissed. If Interpol gets involved, and they find out about the break-in at the office, it could lead back to the banks."

"Bunch of mambi-pambi's! They aren't going to catch me and there was nothing left at the office to lead them to me. I doubt those dummies even suspect it was me."

"My source at E-TIGRIS says there's a clandestine group operating here as well. There are a lot of eyes coming to bear."

"Bah! Look: there's enough jewelry at the resort to allow us to retire to the Caribbean. I'm going tonight; you be ready to pack." _Le Renard_ walked out of the room, not wanting to hear any more sniveling from his brother. If he was going to be a coward … well … he'd could always just keep all the jewels from himself.

As he was dressing, he heard the door to his brother's bedroom close. _Good, now I don't have to argue with him on my way out! _Gathering up his equipment bag and putting Doolittle into his pouch, the unusual team headed out for their evening of easy adventure.

#####

Sarah drove back to _DuPont_, taking advantage of the lessened traffic, and keeping Chuck in white-knuckle territory the whole way. She glanced over at him as often as her driving allowed, and let an amused smile play about her lips, while he held on with his wide-eyed look, jaw firmly set, and pushed well back into his seat. She even thought about putting the car into a spin just to hear his little girl scream, but decided she just couldn't do that to her boyfriend.

Finally, inside the garage of the gate house, she shut down the high-powered engine, and reached over to loosen his grip on the armrests. "Chuck, honey," she laughed, "we're home; you can relax."

"I-I-I should be used to your driving by now, Sarah, but with all the ice and snow and mountains, I just locked up. Maybe you could give me one of your patented massages to loosen up my muscles?" He looked at her with his puppy dog eyes, and pouty mouth, causing her to laugh even harder.

"Yeah, I think I can do that, sweetie." She leaned over and nuzzled his neck before moving on to his lips. He brought his hand up to the back of her hand, luxuriating in the feel of her thick, blonde hair. As the kiss deepened and their tongues began their dance, they both moaned, deeply and satisfyingly. Sarah had gripped the front of his jacket in her hand, pulling him to her. She loosened her grip and began to move her hand lower when they both had to end the kiss and breath. Thinking better of it, she whispered, "Let's get inside."

They ran inside, continuing to laugh, kiss, and arouse each other, but then stopped dead in their tracks. Sitting at the kitchen table was Maurice, drinking a cup of coffee. "So, what did you learn?" Both blushed deeply, but did not let go of each other, while Maurice looked on mirthfully.

Using the excuse to get coffee for themselves, they worked to regain their composure and calm their roaring desires. Once seated at the table, they gave him a run down of their afternoon's efforts. He asked a few questions, leading them to further check the pictures they had taken. "You have done well … both of you. Chuck, I apologize for doubting your abilities. Now here is what I have found today."

_Later…._

"So, based on this intel, it is a good bet that his targets will be Suites 26A and 28B. He will go for the easy score in 26A first, in case he has to abort before hitting both rooms. That way he will come away with, at least, a little something."

"Great work, Maurice, thank you so much." Sarah leaned over and kissed the older man on the cheek. "We can get there first, and be waiting when he arrives. Should be a piece of cake."

"All but one thing: how do we get him out of the building? Security knows us now so we can't just waltz him out the front door."

"If you catch him in 26A, you can jimmy the window and it's a short drop to the ground. There's plenty of trees there so IF the parking lot security camera is operational, it still won't see you."

"Okay, sound like a plan."

"We have about three hours to kill so I suggest we get some rest now. Then we can eat a bite before heading back. Maurice: anything else you can think of?"

"No, ma chérie. I have already gathered your equipment and clothing."

"You are such a sweet man. If we do catch him, may we bring him here? We will need to have the rest of our team come here, as well.

"But of course. Use the back entrance into the lower level. If you would like, I can go to Zurich and get your team."

"The would be perfect. You don't mind?"

"Ma chére fille, you know I will do anything for you. I just wish I could see you more."

Sarah looked down at her coffee cup for a moment before responding. "I know, Maurice; me, too. But you know the life."

He did not respond, but sadness darkened his eyes as he looked back at her.

"Soyez prudent ... prendre soin de votre homme ... il est bon pour vous!" (_Be careful ... take care of your man ... he's good for you!_)

"Je suis si contente que vous approuvez. Oui, il signifie le monde pour moi, comme vous le faites." (_I am so glad you approve. Yes, he means the world to me, as do you._)

She turned in her chair, and holding out her hand to Chuck, she continued, "Let's go upstairs, sweetie. I think there was something about a massage…."

"Mmmmm … babe … you read my mind." As the two lovers left, hand in hand, Maurice sighed, happy for the dear girl … no, woman … he had come to think of as family. But then his lips turned downward, as his thoughts returned, again, to the mission; and all the things that could possibly go wrong.

#####

He heard the footsteps, followed by the outer door opening and closing. Sadness filled his heart as he shook his head, knowing that he couldn't get through to him. _But as long as his ego is that big, he's not going to listen._

Picking up the phone he dialed the special number that was not in his address book.

"Hello?"

"Maria." He said it simply, but there was so much undertone there, as well. "I had to hear your voice."

"This is dangerous."

"I know. But … but we haven't been together in over three weeks ... and I miss you."

"You know why we haven't been able to see each other. I, too, miss you. But, Heinrich, is that idiot brother of your's going to screw this up?"

"I-I don't know. He thinks he's clear. I do have to admit: he is very, very good."

"So is Interpol; so is E-TIGRIS; and we don't even know who else may be involved now."

"Let's not argue, Maria; I need you, to feel you lying next to me."

"This will all be over soon, my lover boy. We must be strong to see it through. Now whisper those special little things you say to me…."

#####

Chuck and Sarah easily moved through the surrounding woods, into the resort, and to Room 26A. Their reconnaissance, earlier in the day, had paid dividends in getting past the security measure in place. Now they just had to sit and wait. Maurice's information indicated the couple in this room were both high-stakes gamblers and would be in the casino until 0300 or later. They just hoped _Le Renard_ would come sooner rather than later.

_flashback_….

When they had adjourned to their room, after working with Maurice, Chuck pulled Sarah onto the sofa, where their lips quickly met. As his lips roamed over her neck, ears, eyes, cheeks and lips, Sarah wondered how she could have gone all day without feeling him pressed against her. Chuck so loved the feel of this beautiful woman in his arms; he marveled, as he did each and every time they made love, how he could be so incredibly lucky to have her in his life, much less in his arms.

As their movements became more frenzied, and they were beginning to undress each other, Chuck stood, with Sarah in his arms, and carried her into the bathroom. In no time they were in the shower, bringing their senses, and joy in each other, to higher and higher levels of excitement. Finally, and before they were totally pruney, they shut off the water and dried each other, while continuing to laugh and enjoy each thoroughly. Once on the bed, Sarah rolled Chuck onto on his stomach, and proceeded to give him the promised massage, until his sighs once again became moans, and her fingers began to cramp. Moving to lie on her side, Chuck rolled over and spooned up against her, his arm around her waist and head buried in her hair. They were almost instantly asleep.

Just before his alarm was set to go off, he once again awoke from a very odd dream. He didn't remember any of it, but it continued to nag at him as he rose to get dressed. Why had he started to dream so much lately?

_the present…._

They had been in the suite about an hour when they heard a strange noise. Sarah was instantly up and standing by the largest air vent in the room. The noises continued, but were really only noticeable because they were listening specifically for them.

A light appeared inside the passageway until it reached the wall vent. A tool, similar to Sarah's, emerged and removed the screws; then the vent was lowered to the floor. As a head began to emerge from the opening, Chuck flipped on the lights.

_Le Renard_ was startled, first by the light, and then, by the most beautiful, woman's face he had ever seen. The next thing he saw was the woman's fist coming at his face ... and then everything went black.

**A/N2:** Thanks for reading. Reviews are always welcome and I try to respond to each one. Not sure how quickly the next chapter will come because I have two big projects with actual, real time, deadlines, looming. But I hate leaving you hanging. 'Til next time...


	5. 5 Phone Calls

**A/N: **I'm baaaaack. Finally! I am so sorry this is taking so long. I seem to be in a rut of writing, throwing it away, rewriting; it seemed like such a simple story when I started. Then I thought I was done editing when I found a GIANT error, so had to backtrack and fix all that. So, I hope I found all the errors and problems and fixed them. Please feel free to review and let me know what you think.

Thanks again to **Lost in My Addiction** for the request to write this story. Even though it is not going quickly, I am enjoying working on this one.

All appropriate disclaimers go here. Haven't gotten any takers on my daughter's college loans so I guess no one is too upset with my use of their show, characters, or anything else I have borrowed.

**5. Phone Calls **

Before leaving _DuPont_, Sarah called Casey again: " Four-one-zero by one-eight-eight." After giving the code, she charged on, not waiting for his response: "Casey, I know it's early but something has developed here. We are going back to the resort; a man will be coming to pick you up in about an hour. His name is Maurice. He will ask you if you want to go skiing with Rebecca. Respond with: "Only if we can eat first." Go with him and he will bring you to meet us. He may ask you to be blindfolded; please cooperate."

Casey was finally able to get in his code response, "Zero-six-four. I don't know, Walker. This is all out of the ordinary. Why don't you tell me where…."

"It's too hard to explain, but you have to trust me ... and trust him."

"You, I trust … but I don't know…."

"Casey, we have to go here. I'll see you at the rendezvous. Get some sleep once there, if you can; we'll probably be very late."

"Walker ... wait!" But she had already disconnected. "Damn!" He wanted to throw the phone. but it was their only means of communication.

Morgan heard the series of grunts and growls issuing forth from Casey, making him afraid to ask what had happened. He just stared at the big man, hoping he would calm down, and then explain.

"Grimes, we will be leaving in about an hour; get packed."

"Then I'm going to need some food first."

"Yeah, that's a good idea, moron: run right downstairs, so if there's anyone there looking for us, they'll be sure to see you. Ungh! Idiot!"

#####

Josef Lasch was exhausted. He knew it took putting in these long hours in order to advance, and he also knew it was a feather in his cap to have been moved up to the number two position by Inspector DeBarné. But he wasn't entirely sure it was worth it. Twice he had nodded off while searching the computer databases; the second time, dropping his coffee cup as well, filling his left shoe with the, by then, cold liquid.

It had been easy to find out that Jacques Lemieux was a VP at the _Graubünder Kantonalbank_, but he wanted to find out about the other two as well. Once he discovered their employers, he began the search for a link. He lost track of time, but regardless what he tried, it came to nothing. Frustrated, he walked to the restroom to freshen up a bit, got a fresh cup of coffee, and then headed to DeBarné's office.

"Inspector?" He knocked on the frame of the door before entering.

DeBarné was lying on the sofa, his laptop propped up on his stomach. Looking up, over the top of his glasses, he grunted as he sat up, "Yeah ... uh ... yes, Lasch ... what have you found?"

Lasch gave him a run down of the intel he had gleaned from his research. "I still think there is a connection, but I'll be damned if I can find it."

"Well, we do know that the people in that office were watching the bank, which ties into at least one of the names we were given. We were also given another name, an American: Col. John Casey, NSA agent. Turns out he was one of the men on the train that Burkart and I were following. We also know there was a zip line strung from the office building to the _Widder Hotel_. And guess what else: Our 'Mr. and Mrs. Charles'? They're registered at that same hotel, but under different names. That's just too many coincidences. So, I'm going to stakeout the office and the hotel to see if any of the four show up. Josef, I am sorry, but I have to ask you to stay here, in case I need you. You need some rest as well, so bunk down in here; keep your phone handy."

Yes, sir."

#####

The impact of Sarah's fist knocked out _Le Renard_. "Guy's got a glass jaw." Chuck chuckled at her comment as he worked to drag the small man out of the vent. They both had ahold of him, and were dragging him to the bed, when they heard another noise from the vent. Sarah looked back and gasped. Then she smiled as the noise turned into a bark. "Awwww … look, Chuck … it's a puppy."

Chuck almost dropped the man's head in surprise. In a graceful leap, the dog launched itself from the opening and landed on all four feet in the middle of the room. He then sat down, and looked expectantly from Sarah to Chuck to _Le Renard_, and back again.

"You don't suppose this is _Le Renard's_ secret accomplice, do you, Sarah?"

"Well, it would certainly explain how no one ever identified _Le Renard's _accomplice." Having placed the man on the bed, Sarah walked towards the dog, her right hand extended in front of her, the back of her hand facing the animal. Just before she came into contact with the little guy she spoke, "Doolittle?"

Instantly the dog barked and wagged his tail rapidly. Sarah moved closer and began petting his head while looking back at Chuck with a big smile. "Well, that's one big mystery solved. But we better get moving."

"Hey, Sarah. Come look at this." Sarah walked back over to the bed and looked at what Chuck was holding. "I'll bet this is a pouch for carrying the dog around. And do you remember the funny looking harness we found on the zip line? He could wrap this around the dog, secure it with the velcro, and then attach him to the line with the two hooks.

"Wow, honey. That's brilliant. Just think: all these years of chasing _Le Renard_ throughout Europe, three different men playing the role, and no one ever figured out his assistant was a trained dog. It's all making so much sense now. So, do you have the window ready to open and the harnesses ready?"

"Yep. Help me get him over to the window and we can hook him up."

With a minimum of grunting and straining, the two spies moved _Le Renard_ to the window, and attached the harness. Sarah then hooked herself up and, with a quick kiss on Chuck's lips, she let herself out the window. Her final glimpse of him brought a big smile to her face as she saw him staring at her, fingers touching his lips where her's had so recently landed.

Once he shook himself out of the momentary stupor caused by her kiss, Chuck quickly lowered the, still unconscious, thief to the ground. He then made a quick pass through the room, reattached the vent cover, smoothed out the bed covers, and checked to make sure they hadn't left anything. After lowered himself down, a quick, sharp tug on the rope and it popped loose from where it was tied, and snaked down the wall to land at his feet.

Several hours later, the guests returned to their room and were surprised that their window was open. As nothing seemed to have been disturbed or taken, they chalked it up to the maid being careless, and quickly forgot about it, being exhausted from their night in the casino. They never gave it a thought to report the incident to the resort management.

Chuck and Sarah moved their catch to the car and drove away, no one being the wiser of their visit. _Le Renard_ began to regain consciousness about half way back to _DuPont_ so Chuck hit him with one of Casey's mini-tranqs and he was out like a light once again.

Reaching over, Sarah took Chuck's strong hand in her's; it had been far too long for them not to have touched. "Chuck, have you flashed on anything this evening? Anything that will help us unravel this mystery?"

"No. About the only thing it is giving me is a headache." He felt her hand tighten on his when he said this. Squeezing back, he tried to reassure her. "I'm beginning to worry about the Intersect."

He felt his heart rate increase significantly with the contact. Holding hands with Sarah had always been special, at least for him. Even when it appeared they were destined to only be a fake couple, and there was a certain amount of awkwardness in their physical contact, it always seemed the touch of their hands came naturally. Now that they were truly together, it was something they both craved. "It really hasn't given me much on this mission. Have we exceeded it's database, or are all these people just unknowns to the CIA or NSA?"

"All very good questions, honey." Sarah, too, enjoyed the touch of their hands. In the early days it had always been her to initiate the contact, but as they became closer, they both seemed to relish the intimacy it brought to them. Chuck soon began to lose his aversion to PDA, and this was the one outward expression that he readily used. "Let's hope we can get some answers out of this guy. I wonder who he really is, and how he came to become _Le Renard_? Obviously, Maurice doesn't think much of him."

"Yeah … about that. How does Maurice know so much about _Le Renard_? Is there something you aren't telling me?"

"No, Chuck, if I knew more, I would definitely tell you. There is much I don't know about him; probably more than what I do know. I just know I can trust him. Sometimes we just have to leave things like that."

"I know, sweetie. I was certainly in that state when we first met. I did trust you; I just didn't know why."

Sarah brought them into the secret, back entrance to _DuPont_. She was a little surprised that Maurice's Land Rover was not back yet; he had had plenty of time to retrieve Casey and Morgan by now. Once again shouldering their captive, Chuck followed Sarah up the curving stairs and passageways, cut into the solid stone of the castle, to a room outfitted to be an interrogation room.

#####

"We are being followed, gentlemen, by two different factions. We will have to take a circuitous route to our rendezvous. Be sure to have your seat belts on and securely fastened."

"What? I don't see anything?" Casey was taken aback because he had not noticed a tail. That this unknown man had detected not just one, but two, indicated an amazing level of awareness.

"Mr. Casey, trust me, when you've done this as long as I have, you'll know. And it's not totally unexpected."

Taking the next exit off the A3, Maurice quickly made several turns that left both Casey and Grimes straining against their seat belts. Morgan was covering his face with his hands as the turns came hard and fast.

Casey's professional respect took a leap upwards at the man's handling of the car. _I hope this guy isn't classified, so Walker can tell me all about him._ "Ungh … I count one now."

"Yes. They are E-TIGRIS. Quite adept at the stakeout and followup. We did lose the second tail, however. Unfortunately, I could not identify them."

"Can you lose this one?"

"Oh, most certainly. But I'm not convinced we should. They can be quite helpful in their own way."

"Has Walker filled you in on who we are? And what we were investigating?"

"Who … oh, yes, Rebecca … I know who you all are. Normally, I would avoid those fellows. However, it would seem, from the fact that our followers were being followed, there is more to be seen here."

"If it's all the same to you, E-TIGRIS and I go 'way back, and I would just as soon not meet them tonight."

#####

_earlier…._

Two large men sat in an even larger sedan, parked a block behind the obviously nondescript government car, near the _Suisse Delamonerie_ office building. Heinrich Buchheit had assigned them this post the day before, and they were completed bored.

"How long are we to stay here? Aren't we getting any relief?"

The second man, in the passenger seat, stifled a yawn and looked over at his partner with disdain. "You know, Buchheit doesn't share his inner thoughts with me. Do we have any more coffee?"

"If I drink anymore coffee, I'll…."

Suddenly the driver sat straight up and pointed. "Look, our E-T friends are going after that Land Rover. Should we follow them?"

"I don't know. He didn't give us any instructions besides sit here and watch. Oh, go ahead and follow them. I'll try to call the boss."

The driver gunned the engine and pulled out, narrowly missing a motorbike in the process, just before losing sight of their quarry. Traffic was fairly light so they were able to reacquire the two vehicles, while maintaining a discrete distance.

"Yes, sir. Okay. We'll stick to them and let you know as soon as we discover a destination." He hung up the cell and looked at his partner, "We are to follow, and then call back once they stop. Looks like they're headed to the A3; probably headed to one of the resorts."

"Dammit!" They had been behind the two cars for about 40 minutes when the driver suddenly realized they were no longer in sight. It had seemed like such an easy tail, but now, they were both gone. "Did you see them leave the highway? Buchheit will have our heads! Now what?"

"How do you feel about Lake Zurich? 'Cause if we don't find them, we may be living there … permanently!" They both looked frantically around, but there was no sign of the Land Rover or government sedan. "Let's go on up to _Flumserberg_ and work our way back."

With a worried look on his face, the driver stomped on the pedal and the car shot forward.

#####

DeBarné saw the Land Rover leave the highway suddenly, picking up speed as it zoomed down the ramp. It surprised him because he had figured they were headed to one of the resorts, probably _Flumserberg_. He could also tell that the driver up ahead was taking evasive measures; they had been made. He slammed his hand on the steering wheel and accelerated, trying to keep them in sight.

"Call headquarters and have them alert the authorities at each of the resorts to watch for that vehicle." Even if they lost it, he was sure they were headed to a rendezvous with someone. Hopefully, it would be with whomever else was involved with whatever was going on, wherever it was going down. _Sure don't know much, do we?_

Getting off the phone, his partner on the stakeout turned to the Inspector, "Sir, Inspector Lasch wanted you to know that Interpol has sent some information on Mme. Romanina: apparently, early in her career as a banker in Geneva, she was suspected of being an East German operative. Nothing was ever proven, but both the CIA and MI6 had expressed interest in her whereabouts. The Inspector is trying to determine if this may somehow be connected."

"Great … just great. I'm tired of being caught up in something where none of the parts seem to fit. Although … if Casey is NSA, and she was … maybe still is … Stasi ... is that our connection?" He slammed his hand on the steering wheel once again, and emitted an expletive that caused the young agent next to him to stare in amazement.

#####

Morgan had squealed at least three times during their careening ride through the Swiss backroads, some of which, were definitely not built for the large Land Rover. The last time was quite loud, garnering a grunt and stare from Casey. Grimes clamped his hands over his mouth, cutting the latest sounds off in mid-squeal; he kept them there in an effort to not vocalize any more. His eyes were wide open and unblinking, adding to the comical appearance, and he was surprised Casey hadn't insulted him outright, rather than just grunting.

They careened around a sharp curve, dove down a short incline, bounced over a shallow ditch, and shot into a tunnel. Flipping on the high beam lights, Maurice stuck to the center of the very narrow two lanes. Suddenly he slammed on the brakes, throwing both his passengers hard into their seat belts, threw the vehicle into reverse, and cranked the wheel clockwise; the large vehicle easily slid into a gap in the tunnel wall that had been invisible to both Casey and Morgan. Once well inside the opening, he stopped, shut off the lights and engine, and turned to Casey: "Your partner … has he been in the field before?"

"Ungh. No … hasn't even had much training. But he does have his uses … not many … but some." He looked at the older man for a few seconds, and then continued, "That was some nifty driving, sir. Apparently you've done this before."

For the first time Maurice smiled ever so slightly. "Yes, you could say that."

"So: how do you know Walker?"

"I'm afraid that is a story for her to tell … or not. We go back many years … she is now family. You've been partners a long time?"

"Nearly three years. She's the best I've ever had. We compliment each other pretty well."

Morgan had been listening to this exchange and couldn't contain himself any longer. He unfastened his seat belt, leaned forward, and exclaimed, "Well now, Mr. Maurice, or whoever you really are, I don't think you are telling us everything. I'm not even sure you are actually Sarah's friend: where is she ... why didn't she come to get us ... and what about Chuck? Huh? If you think Casey, and I are just going to sit here…."

Casey reached over the seat and grabbed Grimes' by the face, fingers on one side of his mouth, thumb on the other, and squeezed really hard. "Shut! Up! Moron! Let the professionals carry on an adult conversation up here in the front seat."

"Uh … o-ay … C-ey … u-sss … ryin … oooo … el." As always, he was still trying to talk, even while Casey held his face in a tight, vise-like grip. Even though it was quite dark, Morgan could see the narrowing of his eyes, and slight tilt of his head to the right, telling him that the big man was not in the mood for anymore from him. He shut his eyes and tried to relax all his muscles, hoping Casey would be quick and painless when he snapped his neck.

"Don't make me regret my decision to bring you along on this mission, moron." Casey let go of his face and then, putting his hand on Morgan's forehead, shoved him back into the seat. Pointing a finger, Casey followed up: "Sit there ... keep your mouth shut."

Maurice had watched the exchange with mirth and interest. It was a very strange dynamic he saw between these two, and wondered how they had ever come to work together. _Must be some connection between this little man and Chuck. _

They sat in silence after that. The government car that had been following them had passed by some time ago, but the second car never appeared. Maurice was confident they had lost them when he pulled off the tollway. "Time to move on," was all he said as he started the engine and pulled out of their hiding place.

#####

Sarah left fruit and water on the table in the room for _Le Renard_, while Chuck got the surveillance cameras up and running. Despite the fact that this was a master thief, at least in his own mind, they were sure Maurice's security would defeat any attempts to escape. Both were famished so, moving to the spacious kitchen two levels above, they pulled out all the fixings for pancakes, and set about making enough for both themselves, and the three men they were expecting to arrive at any minute. They hadn't worked as a team in the kitchen before, but, as with everything else they did together, they were quickly moving in tandem, complimenting each other with every move.

When they finished eating Sarah cleared the table, then returned to slide gracefully onto Chuck's lap and wrap her arms around his neck. He was startled but quickly buried his face in her neck, reveling in the silky smoothness of her skin, and the light brush of her hair. She brought one hand to his head, running her fingers through his thick, brown hair, while throwing her head back in joy, at the feeling of his lips working on her neck.

Chuck brought his hands up Sarah's back, pulling her tightly to his chest. Because they were still in mission clothing, he was frustrated that he couldn't run his hands up her back, inside her top; he would just have to be content with caressing her form through the clothing. In the meantime, he had worked up her neck, over her ear, and along her cheek, reaching her lips with a moan of satisfaction.

After their initial lip to lip kiss, Sarah pulled away slightly and stared into the deep brown pools that were his eyes. She always felt like she was staring into the depths of the universe, the stars of reflected light shining brightly. All the time she had wasted; yes, SHE had wasted. Blast it all to hell … between her dad, and the CIA … for teaching her to not trust, not let her guard down, to build those walls so no one could ever get inside. But those eyes … those wonderful, caring, loving, eyes … stole deeply into her soul, bringing down those walls, exposing her heart. She eagerly leaped into the joy those eyes offered, and she crashed her lips against his, opening her mouth to his, so their tongues could dance and explore.

Sarah had the most beautiful, blue eyes Chuck had ever seen. On that first morning, in the _BuyMore_, he was struck by her hair, her smile, her amazing beauty. But it was those eyes that were always on his mind. And he never tired of staring into them, seeing both the fire and snap of the spy, and the joy and caring of the lover; now HIS lover. He was afraid he had done something wrong when she first pulled back from him, but then her eyes locked with his, and the love and desire shot from one to the other like an electrical charge. His head snapped back slightly as she attacked his lips, and then all thought left his brain, completely overwhelmed by this incredible woman.

The sound of an alarm brought them back to normal, albeit breathless, consciousness. Chuck looked to his right, at the monitor of the interrogation room, and saw that _Le Renard_ was still unconscious. Sarah looked to her right and saw the flashing alarm for the back entrance to _DuPont_. She sighed and dropped her forehead onto Chuck's shoulder. "It's back to work, honey."

Chuck caressed the back of her head, leaned in to touch his head to her's and sighed, "I hate this mission."

With a final kiss they stood up and began working on making more pancakes for their friends.

#####

The three partners had been staring through the one-way glass for ten minutes. _Le Renard_ was stirring slightly, but had not opened his eyes yet. Chuck kept shaking his head and muttering to himself.

"Chuck, what is it? You've been muttering away the whole time we've been in here."

"I don't know, Sarah. There's just something…."

The small man in the room opened his eyes and looked around, confusion arrayed across his face.

"Of course," Chuck smacked himself on the forehead, "How could I have missed that?"

"What, nerd? Did you flash?"

"No, Casey, I didn't have to. Don't you see it?" He turned to look, first at his beautiful girlfriend and handler, and then at the NSA machine, a snarl on his face, standing next to her,. "Just wait … and don't go in there." They both looked back at him, their faces full of doubt and confusion. Chuck held up one finger, then turned, and raced from the room.

"Nice going, Walker: you've finally fried his brain completely." But even though the comment was in his usual gruff voice, there was a bit of merriment in his eyes.

_earlier…._

Maurice had driven them around and around, along paved roads and backroad dirt paths. He even pulled off and parked twice, waiting to see if their trail had been picked up again. What should have taken forty-five minutes had now extended to three hours. Finally, he pulled up to what appeared to be a solid stone wall. To Casey and Morgan's amazement, a segment pulled inward and then up, revealing a large, underground garage, containing several other vehicles. The two Americans looked at each other with wide eyes, questions playing across their faces.

Maurice was pleased to see that the Mercedes that Rebecca had used was back in its parking place; he had been worried that they would run into trouble trying to catch _Le Renard_. She had his full confidence, but he just didn't know enough about her new partner. Jumping out of the SUV, belying his apparent age, he opened the tailgate so they two others could get their luggage out. Still not saying a word, he motioned for them to follow him.

They moved up a set of stone stairs, and along several curving, narrow passageways, all gradually moving upward, until opening on a large hall that had, at one time, in the distant past, served as living quarters for the knights of the realm.

Morgan had yet to speak, his jaw hanging open in spellbinding awe. Nor had he hardly blink, afraid he might miss something as they moved deeper into the castle. This was like many of the computer games he and Chuck had played over the years, but with infinitely more detail. Adding in the smells of the ancient fortress, gave Morgan a spine tingling feeling beyond his wildest imagination. He poked Casey a couple of times, pointing out various amazing sights, which, each time, elicited a growl and stare from the big man, that could have eaten through the solid stone walls that surrounded them.

"Unnnngh. You poke me one more time, moron, and you become a permanent part of this museum."

Maurice directed them to a room on the far side of the large hall, where he told them to store their packs. Casey looked into the other rooms along that side of the hall and discovered an observation room and interrogation room, both worthy of almost any CIA base. It was now his turn to stare, gleefully and wide-eyed, while rubbing his hands together.

An unconscious man was in the interrogation room, reclining in what resembled a barber's chair, on a swivel pedestal, with arms, padding, and the ability to be raised and lowered. Straps for the arms and legs were also available, but not in use.

"If my instincts are correct, Rebecca and, uh, Chuck will be cooking breakfast. Please follow me gentlemen."

After eating, with very little chit-chat, Maurice excused himself, saying he had some research he needed to complete. Once he was gone, both Casey and Morgan turned to stared at Sarah.

She blushed a bit and then shrugged her shoulders. "Okay, guys, I know, this is all a bit unusual. This castle goes back several hundred years. Maurice owns it and lives here. I really can't tell you much about him: suffice it to say, I met him years ago, as a young girl, and he has been here for me, on several occasions, both before, and since, I joined the CIA. You can trust him as you do me."

Casey stared at her, stone-faced, through her spiel. As she finished he leaned back in his chair and deliberately wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Walker … we still have no idea what's going on, nor who we are dealing with. But you never, ever have to ask us to trust you. An ally of yours, is an ally of mine."

A smile … or what passed as a smile from Casey … quickly came and went, while Sarah mouthed a "thank you" back at him. She then looked at Morgan, who still had not uttered a single word. "Morgan? Are you okay with this?"

He gulped a few times before finally smiling and crying out, "This is sooooo awesome! Oh my God: I'm in a real, honest-to-goodness European castle with secret passages and dungeons and everything. I can now die a happy man!"

Everyone laughed at this outburst ... even Casey snorted approval while muttering something about "that can be arranged" ... and the four partners … friends … relaxed.

"Alright team, back to the mission: what do we do now?" Sarah quickly looked at Chuck, her lips pulled to one side in a half smile. She bumped his shoulder with her's as he lightly blushed, "What…?"

"I just love it, sweetie, when you go all General Beckman on us." Sarah reached over and took Chuck's face in her hands as she spoke, and then kissed him lightly on the lips.

"Ungh … stop it." _This is going to be a long mission._

"Okay," Sarah stepped back from Chuck but their hands remained locked together, "It's time we get _Le Renard_ to talk."

Morgan yawned before asking, "Do you mind if I just sack out on the sofa I saw in the next room? I know I can't help with an interrogation."

"Sure thing, little buddy; probably the best thing you can do. We'll wake you if anything comes up."

_back to the present…._

Chuck was gone about five minutes, and when he returned he was dragging Morgan with him, his bearded friend protesting that his short legs couldn't keep up with the tall, lanky form of his friend. He then led his friend into the interrogation room, pulled the other chair up next to the pedestal chair and asked Morgan to sit down and face the mirror. Chuck then raced back out to the observation room.

"Now do you see it?" His eyebrows were at the top of their arc and wild excitement showed in his eyes. But his two partners just looked from the glass to him and back again. "Look: the long face and nose, beady eyes, full lips; now just imagine a beard on _Le Renard_."

Sarah was the first to see it: "Oh my, Chuck, yes, you're right. No wonder E-TIGRIS was following us on the train: they thought Morgan was _Le Renard_."

"That's the damnedest thing..." was all Casey could finally say, as he stared through the window. Then: "Ungh ... now we have two idiot garden gnomes."

Casey entered the room and escorted Morgan back out. Then he walked over to _Le Renard_ and stared down at him.

"Okay, so there's a tall nerdy-looking guy, and a short, bearded elf, and now a giant ape." With he smirk he continued, "Where's the pretty blonde? I want her to talk to me."

"You mean me, _Johann_?" She put a firm emphasis on his name and watched the blood drain from his face.

"Don't know who you're talking about, blondie." He tried to bluster his way past the comment, but it was obvious he was already shaken.

Casey stepped back slightly as Sarah moved slowly across the room, eyeing the folder Maurice had just brought her. "Oh yes you do, Johann … Herr Buckheit: younger brother of Heinrich Buckheit, who is personal assistant to the number one crime boss in all of Switzerland, Helmut Goldschtadt. Ring any bells now ... _Le Renard_?"

"Boy, it must be true about blondes and brains. You've called me three different names … none of which are mine."

"Better watch it, buster. Our 'blonde' friend here has been know to rip out a man's eyeballs and use them for target practice." Casey's growl was even lower than usual.

"Let's see, Johann, here's a picture of you and Heinrich as boys, out for a day of skiing. Then here's another at a school graduation; no doubt these pictures, along with the names underneath, are you and your brother. Here is one of Heinrich, escorting Herr Goldschtadt to his limousine. And finally, here you are, along with your adorable little dog, Doolittle, helping yourself to some very expensive looking jewels, in what, I'll bet, is not your room, at the _Hôtel Plaza Athénée_ in Paris._"_

"Where is the dog?"

"That's the best you can do, you clown? Where is the _dog_?" Sarah was in his face now, and the man coward back into the chair as far as he could go.

Chuck was so glad he was in the observation room because he completely cracked up when she uttered those last words, in a credible, albeit female, imitation and paraphrase from the end of _Indiana Jones and The Final Crusade_. _My little nerd-ette!_

"You need to treat your accomplices better, too; poor thing's foot is infected! Good thing we have a man here who knows how to treat injuries like that." Sarah stood up straight again, her right hand working in and out of a fist; how she wanted to smack him again, for his cavalier attitude. "Tell us about breaking into the _Suisse Delamonerie _office building."

"Never been…." He never saw the slap coming; he had never seen anyone move that fast. Fortunately for him, he caught her with her hand open, rather in a fist. Nevertheless, he was seeing stars and, as his brain recycled, wondering if there was any skin still attached to the left side of his skull.

"Johann … we do not really want to hurt you; well ... maybe a little. Just tell us what we want to know." Her voice was now soft and demure, as she leaned in near his ear, adding to the little man's confusion and disorientation.

"Crap! Who are you people? You can't do this to me! Bring back that nerdy guy … or even the munchkin."

Casey now moved in, grabbed his left hand, and clamped it down with the restraints. Before _Le Renard _could react, both hands and feet were immobilized: "First of all, idiot, that 'munchkin' is no smaller than you are. Second, you have a choice: me … and you should know, I haven't killed anyone recently so my trigger finger really itches … or her, who shot a former gymnast in the knee just because she didn't like his tumbling run. Oh, and the nerdy guy? He shot a CIA agent four times in the chest just for touching her." He jerked his thumb at Sarah as he spoke the last bit, bringing a grin to her face, but also a touch of pain to her eyes.

"Agent, I'm tired of all this. How about we see if our host has any bolt cutters?" Sarah's voice was hard and cold once again.

"Sounds good to…."

"Whoa-whoa-whoa. Stop! I know what you're doing now." Looking down at his strapped down hands, he continued softly, "And it's working. What do I get out of it, if I tell you what you want to know?"

'What do you want, besides to live?" With these final words from the blonde beauty, _Le Renard_, the egotistical thief, slumped over in a swoon.

#####

"Inspector, there is a phone call for you on a secure line. We have tried to trace it but it just keeps leading us right back to our own switchboard."

"So you have no idea who it is? Or what they want?"

"No, sir. They just say they will only speak to you."

"Okay, put it through." Mario DeBarné was in no mood for pranks. They had been on the stakeout for hours, saw their quarry leave the hotel, then disappear into thin air after pulling off the A3. They had driven up and down the back roads, and had shown a picture of the American at all the resorts, but there were nothing but negatives. This better be something substantial, or he was going to reach through the phone lines and throttle whomever was at the other end.

"Hello, this is Inspector DeBarné. To whom am I speaking?"

"That is of no consequence, Inspector." It was a male voice and there was a European quality to it, but he couldn't pin down the nationality. "I have some information for you regarding the break-ins in the _Suisse Delamonerie, _and _Flumserberg Resort_."

"And how am I suppose to know if you are being honest with me?"

"I will only give you the information face to face. That way you can look me in the eye; then you will know if I am being truthful or not. I will be in the _Seminarhotel Lihn Hotel_, Main Chalet Restaurant, 90 minutes. Ask for Carmichael. Do not be late."

The line went dead before DeBarné could say anything else. He slammed the receiver down, threw his pen across the room, and sat back in his chair with a grimace. Sitting in a car for hours was playing havoc with his back. _Need to let the young guys take over the stakeouts!_

He picked up the phone once again and punched in the extension for Detective Lasch. When the line was picked up he didn't wait for any pleasantries: "Lasch, get a car and meet me outside in five minutes." Grabbing his coat and handgun, he hurried out of the office and down to the parking lot.

"You drive, Lasch. We are headed to _Seminarhotel Lihn Hotel_." Then he lapsed into silence that last the entire trip.

Lasch glanced at his boss several times before realizing he was asleep. _Strange man. I wonder if he has a life outside E-TIGRIS? Too bad he's going to die soon._


	6. 6 Dancing Their Way Into Trouble

**A/N: **Finally! I'm back with a new chapter. I hope there is someone out there still will to read on with me. I'm really sorry this story is taking so long; it's been ... shall we say ... an interesting summer. Hopefully I can get back in the swing and move this story on.

A big thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. It's always great to hear from you.

All the usual disclaimers here ... I don't ... but I wish I did.

Enjoy...

**6. Dancing Their Way Into Trouble**

Chuck sat on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. He had lost track of the times he flashed during _Le Renard's_ interrogation/interview/recitation, and he was paying the price now. Every name mentioned, and most of the locations and businesses, too, had triggered the Intersect, dragging him deeper and deeper into a pit of cluster headaches.

He heard the door open but didn't look up; his head was just too heavy. The air moved gently around him, carrying the light scent of lilac shampoo and body wash, and knew it was the lovely Miss Walker, the beautiful woman of his hopes and dreams. The touch of her hand on the back of his head, trailing down to his neck, brought a sigh to his lips, and he could feel his neck and back muscles relax ever so slightly.

"Chuck," Sarah sat down next to him, trying not to rock the bed too much, "here's the water and aspirin. Is it subsiding any at all?" The concern written across her face, and in those amazing azure eyes, echoed in her voice.

Lifting his head slightly, he looked up at her, "Could you just pull out the ice pick that's stuck in my forehead?" A slight lift at the left corner of his mouth showed her that his humor was still in place, despite the pain etched across the rest of his face. He quickly swallowed the pills and then let his head sag once again.

Sarah reached out in concern and embraced him, pulling his head to her chest. "I am so, so sorry, sweetheart. If I'd known this was hurting you so, I wouldn't have let you stay and watch. There really wasn't…."

"Stop, Sarah. Look at all the extra information I was able to provide … stuff even _Le Renard_ didn't know. That's the whole point of the Intersect, isn't it?"

"Yes, but … why are you getting all these headaches?" He looked up at her and she smiled slightly, "You didn't really think you were hiding them from me, did you? This hasn't been such a problem in the past. What's changed?"

"I should know better than try to keep a secret from the mighty Sarah Walker. You know I've always had some headaches, but they seem to be getting more frequent … and more severe."

"And the dreams?"

"Wha … whoa … how? Damn! I really thought you were asleep."

Sarah looked at him with her left eyebrow raised and a firm set to her lips; but there was also a little crinkle around her eyes, showing him she was a little amused at his stammering. "Chuck, we are together now, but it's still my duty to protect you. I know you too well: you don't want to worry me … or anyone, for that matter. Don't think for a minute, that you are fooling me. Understand?" These final words were punctuated with her index finger poking into his chest.

"Owwww ... you call this protecting me? More like abusing me…." He rolled the corners of his lips down in a pout and grabbed the offending finger and hand.

"Oh, and I guess you were being abused last night, too, Mr. Bartowski?" Sarah laughed and tried to pull her hand away, but he had a firm grip on it, resulting in them losing their balance and landing on the floor in a heap.

On the floor, face to face, Sarah leaned over Chuck, their legs tangled sensuously, eyes locked together, they were suddenly transported to new place; a place they had only recently discovered … together. He leaned upward slightly, his eyes moved from her eyes to her lips and back again. Her breathing quickened; his pulse pounded harder.

Finally, she lowered her head to meet his and their lips pressed into one another, at first soft, then with increasing pressure and urgency. She slipped her hand under his shirt and across his chest, as he ran his hand up her thigh and across the rise of her bottom.

_Bzzzzz … Bzzzzz … Bzzzzz…._

The buzzing of Chuck's phone pulled the couple back to consciousness, both moaning in disappointment. He laid his head back against the floor as she let her body collapse down onto his, her forehead resting against his, her thick, beautiful, blond tresses spilling around to envelope his head.

Chuck swallowed a couple of times, trying to get his mind to focus and finally croaked out, "It was so nice when no one was trying to call us."

_Bzzzzz … Bzzzzz … Bzzzzz…._

"True … but then, part of that was because I threw my phone out the train window."

They both chuckled, "True. Very true." He pushed her upward so he could look into those mesmerizing eyes, "But on the upside, I think we just found the cure to my headaches!"

"Well then, we must make sure we keep a constant dose of _THE CURE_ on hand." The worry of just a few minutes earlier was replaced with them laughing together and once again kissing, albeit, without intense desire overwhelming them both this time.

_Bzzzzz … Bzzzzz … Bzzzzz…._

"Yeah, yeah, yeah … I'm coming." Chuck regretfully extricated himself from the beautiful body draped over him, almost losing his resolve as she continued to caress and kiss him, and grabbed his phone. "You are such a bad influence on me!" She just smiled back.

"Yeah, this is Chuck."

"Hey, buddy, Casey's about to come unglued. You guys need to get rolling if you are going to meet the T-REX guys."

"That's E-TIGRIS, Morgan. Thanks, we'll be there in a couple of minutes."

Sarah had rolled onto her back … in a very provocative pose ... causing Chuck's mouth to drop open and eyes to stop blinking. It took him a few moments before he could form coherent sounds: "Ah, come on, honey, that's just not fair. Casey's going to come in here and drag us out if we don't get going."

"We could really shock him, don't you think?"

"What have you done with all-business, super spy Sarah Walker? Not that I'm complaining really." The biggest smile of the day lit his face and sent tingles pulsating through Sarah's entire body.

Regaining control, she slowly rose to her feet and walked over to her man ... her Chuck. Wrapping her arms around his waist she rose up on her tiptoes and gently kissed him. Pulling back and running her hands along his collar, she replied, "Sarah Walker, CIA agent, reporting for duty, Mr. Bartowski." Then after a couple of beats: "Kill joy." With one more quick smooch she pulled away and began gathering up her jacket and handgun, while Chuck just stood and admired the beautiful form of this incredible woman, his headache mysteriously gone.

#####

Inspectors DeBarné and Lasch arrived at the _Seminarhotel Lihn Hotel _in the time allotted to them by the mysterious caller. DeBarné told Lasch to stay in the car, and waved off the younger man when he started to protest. Entering the restaurant, he surveyed the half-filled room and recognized the two people at one of the tables.

As he approached, the tall, rather gangly looking man, and the stunning woman, both stood. They were dressed in ski apparel, making it easy to blend into their surroundings here at the resort. But, having watched them for several hours on the train, his Inspector's observant eye would make it easy for him to recognize them anywhere.

The man extended his hand, "Inspector, thank you for coming at such short notice. I am Carmichael and this is my partner, Rebecca." The ever diligent Inspector noticed the slight emphasis the man placed on the word _partner_, confirming that they were more than just coworkers.

He shook Carmichael's hand first, and then Rebecca's. If he had not been such an experienced, trained operative, the beauty of her blue eyes would have taken his breath away. As it was, he found it a bit difficult to speak, and had to clear his throat before: "You both have me at a disadvantage." From the train, he knew them as the Charles's. _Carmichael sounds like a last name, but Rebecca is a given name … who are these people really?_

Chuck motioned for them to sit, and DeBarné took the opportunity to take a sip of water, which helped him finally get his voice and nerves under control. _Damn_, he thought, _what a rookie … letting myself lose control just looking into her eyes … have to avoid them…._

The woman was speaking now, "...and we thought we should apologize in person. We all seem to have made some incorrect assumptions."

And there it was … that blazing smile he remembered from the train. He swallowed hard again, took yet another sip of water, and then addressed the man sitting opposite him. "I appreciate you calling, but I still don't understand."

Again, it was the woman who spoke, taking several pictures out of a folder and placing one of them in front of him, "We believe you were following us on the train because of this man." She tapped the picture of Morgan, and the rest of the team, on the train. DeBarne started to speak again but she threw him a withering glance that stopped him in his tracks. "However, we believe it was a case of mistaken identity. You have confused our colleague with this man." Now she showed him the second picture, this one of _Le Renard_.

The Inspector picked up both pictures and looked them over closely, using the movement to stall for time while he tried to sort out the information. He placed them back on the table and frowned. "So how do I know you haven't just shaved your ... uh, colleague? ... and changed his clothes?"

Now it was Carmichael who took up the conversation: "Before we answer that, please tell us how you came to be on the trail of _Le Renard_. He's activities are not exactly in E-TIGRIS' area of expertise, or even concern."

"I can't tell you that. I don't know anything about you, who you work for, or, again, just what this meeting is all about."

"We can tell you we are United States agents, investigating the murder of two other agents. We have _Le Renard_ in our custody but would prefer to turn him over to you … if you will tell us why you are interested in him." At this, Sarah pulled out a third picture, the one with Morgan and _Le Renard_ sitting side by side in _DuPont's_ interrogation room.

"Why us? Why not just take him to Interpol? With his international crimes, they would be the ones with jurisdiction."

"Is that what you were going to do, had you caught him?"

Inspector DeBarné leaned back in his chair and looked from Chuck to Sarah. They could tell he was weighing his options and debating how much he should tell them. This was an important moment in the conversation. He stalled again, picking up all three pictures and looking from one to the other.

Sarah saw his face change, as if a shadow had lifted, and knew he had reached a decision. She and Casey had discussed what to do in case E-TIGRIS refused to cooperate, but now, face to face with the Inspector, she knew he would be a formidable opponent should he refuse.

Sensing Chuck's nervousness, she gently nudged his leg with her's, leaving her knee in contact with his. She saw his eyes glaze over slightly, until he shook himself gently, sat up straight, and put his spy face back on. To anyone who knew him, the look was almost comical, and she had to stifle the chuckle that was rising in her throat.

Fortunately for them both, DeBarné took that moment to speak, "Alright. I am willing to share our investigation with about, if you two will tell me what your intentions are first."

Sarah smiled: they had succeeded in peaking his curiosity enough to agree to work with them. "Wonderful, Inspector. Let's see if we can spoil a plot against the free world together."

#####

Inspector Lasch had hoped to learn first hand what was transpiring, so was disappointed when DeBarné ordered him to stay in the car. After he parked and watched his boss walk into the hotel, he got out and moved casually to the recreation deck at the side of the hotel, narrowly avoiding several children having a snowball fight. For all the years he had worked in Switzerland, he could not understand the allure of sitting outside on a winter day. At least there was a bar to help ward off the chill and, as he wanted to blend in, he moved through the tables and ordered a drink.

He searched the area visually, trying to find a vantage point where he could see into the restaurant, while not being seen by those inside. Finally, he saw an empty table at an angle where the sun should keep those inside from noticing him. He moved there as quickly as he could while still appearing to be just another bored businessman. Looking inside he saw DeBarné in deep discussion with a man and woman. _Now who could … wait … I know them: it's the 'Charles's, from the train. Did he contact them, or did they call him? And what could they be talking about?_

As there was no way for him to lipread from this vantage point, and knowing the longer he sat there the possibility of being discovered by his boss increased, he finished his drink and left, again, casually walked to the car. He had a good view of the front entrance in case DeBarné came out, so he picked up the phone and dialed the number of his contact.

"Yes, this is LJ. I am at the _Seminarhotel Lihn Hotel _and MD has made contact with two foreign operatives." There was a long pause and then he grunted a, "Yes, I will wait," before hanging up.

Shortly, a dark blue Mercedes Benz pulled up in front of his car and two men exited. They walked over to his car and climbed in the rear seat. "_Le Chef_ sends her thanks. Wait here for your Inspector; we will follow the others. We have to see what they are planning before we eliminate them."

"Very well. Just know, they are quite skilled."

"We understand. We also hear the woman is quite stunning."

Lasch was not looking at the man but he heard the leer in his voice. "Yes, that she is. She is also quite dangerous, if the reports are to be believed. Use your brains, not _Ihre Bälle_; otherwise she may feed them to you."

"Hah! No woman would do that to me. You just take care of your end of the mission." With that the two men exited the car, leaving Lasch to wonder if he could depend on them? _Esel!_

#####

Sarah had called Casey as she and Chuck entered the hotel restaurant. That was his signal to bundle up _Le Renard_ and have him ready for delivery once the meeting came to an end.

He ran the "interview" through his head once again: _Le Renard_ … no, Johann: Casey could no longer think of him as a master thief … had told them quite a story. _How could this moron possibly fool Interpol and all the various police forces, and steal all those jewels?_ His ego was enormous, his skills fairly amazing, but, in the end, he just seemed to be a little boy on a joy ride.

In the end he had given them all he knew and it helped fill in some gaps. The Intersect then helped flesh out his story. But there were still gaps that were gnawing at the back of Casey's mind. Johann's brother had enlisted him to break into the CIA offices for a small group of bankers; but was the brother's mob boss employer involved, too? The bankers' group found out about the CIA's surveillance through a mole; but in who's organization? And then there was the worry about what E-TIGRIS was up to and if Chuck and Sarah could convince them to work together. _Well, if Walker unleashes her feminine wiles, that Inspector doesn't stand much of a chance. Ungh!_

After tranqing the kid, Casey bound his hands and feet, then, with Morgan's dubious help, moved him down to the garage. Maurice was working at a computer station there, which he quickly shut down as soon as he heard them enter. They put _Le Renard_ in the trunk and climbing into the front seat. Their host had programmed detailed directions into the GPS for Casey, saying he could not go with them this time and run the chance of them being seen together once again. That struck Casey as odd, but he just grunted, shrugged his shoulders, and got in the car. _You better be right about this guy, Walker!_

#####

"So that is what we know. The three bankers have been on our radar for some time and that led us to the offices you say were CIA. There we caught a glimpse, on a security feed, of a small man that resembled your companion. My associate and I had been in Geneva, meeting with Interpol on another matter, when we just stumbled upon you on the train. Imagine our surprise to have just gotten the photos from those offices when you four boarded our car."

"Sometimes it is sheer, dumb luck that saves the day." Sarah's smile at Chuck's light, but astute, comment, had DeBarné reaching for his water glass yet again.

"But you still don't have anything solid on the bankers?" Chuck had not participated in the conversation much, allowing Sarah to take the lead, while he waited to see what the Intersect would add.

"No. And the information you have regarding the involvement of Heinrich Buchheit just seems to muddy the waters. Is he working for, or against, his boss Herr Goldschtadt?"

They all paused, each contemplating that thought. Then: "Fra … Mis … er, Rebecca: what do we do now?"

"As we said at the beginning, we really have no way of detaining _Le Renard_ … Johann … so we would like to turn him over to you. One of our associates has recovered much of what he has stolen, as well as all this information we've shown you. It is all yours to do with it as you see fit. If it were me, I would call Interpol. But you know your own local politics and how to deal with it all."

"And in return…?"

"We would like you to give us a little latitude to continue to operate, while keep us in the loop if you should discover more."

"And lend you assistance if necessary?"

"That would be a welcomed, added bonus, Inspector."

Holding out his hand to Sarah, the Inspector smiled for the first time, and said, "To quote one of your American movies: I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship." After shaking her hand, lingering for a fraction of a second with her hand in his, he turned and shook Chuck's hand as well.

#####

Casey pulled the car around to the rear entrance and quickly spotted what he needed. Morgan jumped out, ran to the rear of the building, and pulled an empty laundry cart to the rear of the car. In less than a minute they dumped the kid in, covered him with a dirty sheet, and were inside the hotel.

Maurice had already secured a room, including two keycards, in the name of Johann Buchheit, so upon their arrival and prior to the meeting with the Inspector, they had gone to the room with two suitcases of Buckheit's possessions, including all the stolen jewels. How Maurice had obtained all this was a mystery that even Sarah didn't seem to understand. But she didn't seem concerned, so Chuck just went along with the plan. Once there they turned down the bed, planted the large box of stolen jewels in the closet, and sent Casey a text with the room number. Then they walked, arm in arm, to the restaurant to await Inspector DeBarné.

When he and Morgan arrived at the room Casey used the second keycard to open the door while Morgan strained to push the laundry cart through the door.

_Le Renard_ was quickly arranged in the bed and Casey did a thorough inspection to make sure neither Chuck nor they had left anything incriminating. Just before leaving he sent a text to Walker: "SET."

Once back in the car, they drove around to the main parking lot to keep an eye on the main entrance.

#####

Glancing down at her phone, Sarah smiled. Casey and Morgan had delivered the package with perfect timing. "Inspector DeBarné, _Le Renard_ is upstairs in Room 714. Here is a card with our contact information, and," she looked at Chuck and nodded, "here is a key to the room." Chuck held out the keycard, seeing the surprise in their new colleague's eyes.

"You certainly are resourceful for just passing through our little part of the world. We thank you, and look forward to putting this problem to rest."

"Good luck, Inspector. Talk to you soon." Carmichael and Rebecca stood and left quickly, leaving DeBarné at the table, the same stunned look on his face as when he had arrived and first looked into those blue eyes. Shaking his head, he stood, and headed out to the car. _Time to get back to work._

#####

Casey and Morgan saw DeBarné exit the hotel, walk to his car where another man was waiting, and get in. After a few minutes they pulled the car up to the entrance, showed the valet parking attendant their badges, and entered the hotel. Five minutes later they returned, now pushing someone in a wheelchair, while a bellman followed with several suitcases and a large box.

Morgan grinned and punched Casey in the shoulder, "Hah! Look at that Casey. Took our bait hook, line, and sinker."

"Ungh. Should have left you, too, and let them sort out which was which." Casey's glare as he spoke forced Morgan to scoot further away and cling to the door.

As the car with the E-TIGRIS Inspectors and _Le Renard_ pulled away, Casey started their car, and began to follow them at a discreet distance. Traffic was light and it was easy to stay far enough behind to not be seen by, nor lose their target. He knew this wasn't really in the plan but Casey just had to know where they would take the little thief.

"Oh boy, oh boy … my first car chase!" Morgan was practically bouncing up and down.

"Not a chase, idiot. We're only going 25 miles per hour."

"Alright, already. My first tail, then. That better?"

Casey had almost gotten out his 'shut up, Morgan' when suddenly the car they were tailing exploded in a ball of fire. "Oh sh…" did come out as he spun the wheel to quickly pull into a parking lot on their right. Slamming the car into park and jumping out, he hissed at Morgan, "Stay in the car. I mean it, Grimes!" From the look he saw on his face, he was pretty sure Grimes would, unlike Bartowski, stay right where he was.

He ran down the street toward the burning wreck, but did not pull his gun out of hiding. Guns were frowned on in Europe, especially in the hands of those who looked like civilians, and he didn't want to draw attention to himself. Sirens were already sounding in the distance but he had to see if anyone had survived. He saw two bodies lying in the street, both mangled beyond recognition and unmoving, while a third was hanging out what used to be the driver's side window, burned to a crisp. "Damn, damn, damn."

Turning, he moved quickly back to his car, and pulled out his phone to call Walker. She had just answered, but he had not had a chance to speak, when he heard Chuck's high-pitched, little girl scream, followed by a loud crashing sound, come through the speaker, quickly followed by the connection going dead. "Double damn!"

Fortunately Grimes had followed his instructions and was still sitting in the passenger seat. As he jumped in Casey threw him his phone and, as he started the engine, growled, "Get into the phone contacts, Grimes, and call Maurice. We have a problem."

"Wha…?"

Before Morgan could even finish that first word, Casey reached over and grabbed his face, "Don't talk. Do what I said: call Maurice. When he answers, say these words ... exactly these words: "Three hawks down. Princess broken." He squeezed Grimes' face again, "You got that?"

Morgan shook his head up and down and tried to repeat it, even though Casey still held his face in a vice grip on his face, "'t'ree 'aw's 'own; 'rinshesh 'roke'. Casey let go and Morgan, working his jaw back and forth, immediately started a search of the contacts, followed by punching the button for speed dial.

#####

Sarah took Chuck's hand as they strolled through the resort lobby and out to their car. They looked just like what they were: two young lovers on holiday. However, while appearing to be totally absorbed by each other, their eyes traveled around the surroundings on high alert.

When they arrived at their car, Chuck opened the driver's side door for Sarah but she turned, put her arms around his neck, and pulled him in for a long and sensual kiss. Chuck's knees began to buckle but he caught himself with one hand on the roof of the car while bringing the other up under her hair and gripping her neck lightly.

Pulling apart they were both breathless, and sparkles of joy shown brightly as they stared deeply into each others' eyes. Reluctantly, they let go of each other and Sarah slid smoothly into the driver's seat, while Chuck jogged around to climb in the other side.

They pulled out of the parking lot and headed south on the main road, silence permeating the car, while the electrical charges between them continued to fire. Chuck had his left hand resting lightly on her right shoulder, his index finger tracing up and down her neck and around her ear, causing goosebumps to ripple along her arms and legs. Sarah gently gripped his left knee with her right hand, making him tingle all over. Small glances and smiles were exchanged, their eyes flirting with the promise of what would come once they returned to _DuPont_.

Sarah's phone rang, bringing them both out of their romantic thoughts. She let go of Chuck's knee, pulled out her phone, and, seeing the picture of Casey, pressed the _Answer_ button: "Hi Casey."

"Sarah, look out!" Chuck suddenly screamed at her and jerked the wheel of the car to the right. A large trash truck smashed into the left, rear corner of the small sports car, sending it spinning across the intersection.

Chuck's quick action had prevented the truck from completely broadsiding the car, probably saving Sarah from serious injury, if not death. As it was, they were both buffeted around in their seats, their seat belts and airbags keeping them inside the car.

The spinning car slammed its right rear corner into a large fountain on the southwest corner of the intersection, causing the front end to lift straight up while continuing to pivot. The car landed with hard impact on its right side, and continued to slide until it impacted the wall of the restaurant, just behind the fountain. Finally, it came to a stop, still on its side.

Chuck moaned in pain and then looked straight up: hanging in her seat belt, Sarah was already pounding on her door, trying to get it open. As she did so, she looked down at him, saw blood on his forehead and called his name, hoping he was conscious. His eyes widened as he saw a trickle of blood on her right temple.

"Chuck, hold still. I'm going to have to swing my legs down and stand on your door in order to get out. Can you move? Are you okay?"

"Mmmmm … have a little blood on my forehead, but otherwise in one piece. How about you?"

"Oh, never better," she replied, anger laced her comment, as did a bit of sarcasm.

She finally shoved the door open and undid her seatbelt. Using her ninja warrior strength and agility she pulled her long legs out from under the steering wheel and down, in front of Chuck, to stand his door. She leaned down to look at him and breathed a sigh of relief as she did not see any major damage. "As soon as I climb free you follow me. I don't think this is over yet."

Sure enough, as she lifted herself up and free of the interior of the car, Chuck heard the growl of a truck engine getting louder and closer.

"Come on, Chuck! Hurry!" Sarah reached down, grabbed his shoulder, and helped him up and through the door opening.

Looking past her he saw the garbage truck moving towards them again, this time with the prongs of the canister lifter lowered and extended toward them. Another girlish scream erupted as he grabbed Sarah around the waist from behind and leaped off the car. They were still in the air when the truck prongs smashed through the car, the hydraulics engaged, and the car was lifted off the ground.

They landed in a planter and Sarah gracefully rolled to her right, away from the car, and onto her feet. Chuck, not nearly as well coordinated, had to crawl his way free, tripping over the debris now littering the sidewalk. "Chuck, come on … quickly!" Her final word was punctuated by several gunshots, the bullets glancing off the walk, planter box, and mangled outdoor furniture.

She grabbed his hand and they raced down the street, diving into the first open doorway that she saw. Just inside there was another set of doors and they shoved their way inside where they were instantly plunged into darkness, their senses brutally assaulted by a wall of sound that vaguely resembled music.

Leaning into her ear, Chuck shouted: "It's a dance club. Let's dance and disappear into the crowd." Sarah looked into his eyes and nodded agreement. They were both still somewhat off balance from the accident, but adrenaline was keeping them moving. Fortunately, because there was so little light in the hall, no one noticed the blood on each of their faces.

Two men appeared in the doorway, shoved a couple of patrons out of their way, and moved into the room. Unfortunately, Sarah's outfit was all white and stood out, even in the dim light of the club. One man spotted her and pointed her out to his companion. Chuck and Sarah continued to dance their way through the crowd but now the men were coming forward, with no regard for the dancers in their way.

_Déja vu_ struck them both as they moved across the dance floor. It was so similar to their first first date nearly three ago. Only now Chuck was able to help Sarah watch the men moving around the room. And it was good thing because, being so much darker, it was easy to lose track of them. On that night Sarah was fully armed and able to take out four agents quickly and easily. But here, there were many more people dancing (milling?) around, added to the completely deafening music (noise?), and the darkness. She knew she could still neutralize these men but at what cost to the public? No, it wasn't worth taking the chance. They were going to have to find a back way out.

Chuck was the first to see the door at the rear, left corner of the room. All they had to do was move around the far side of the stage and they would be out. They had just made it to the corner of the stage when their progress was stopped by the appearance of yet another man searching for them, coming through the very door they were headed towards.

Sarah began moving sensually up and down in front of Chuck, causing him, just as he had three years ago, to freeze as this beautiful seductress moved around, touching him rather intimately. She moved down to the floor once again, this time moving Chuck in a circle by grabbing his belt. He was starting to wonder if she had suddenly forgotten why they were in the club when she launched herself up and around him, her leading right fist caught the third man directly in the solar plexus. Chuck, finally realizing what she was doing, added his knee to the now bent over man's chin, knocking him onto his back, unconscious.

Several of the dancers screamed at the sight of this violence and began to move towards the front door, causing a bottleneck that trapped the other two pursuers. This was the break Chuck and Sarah needed. Sarah, standing at full height once again, grabbed Chuck's hand and pulled him towards the rear door. They ran through that door and less than a dozen steps down a hallway, before they burst through another door and outside. The bright sunlight on the snow now blinded them as much as the darkness inside had stunned them only moments earlier.

Shielding her eyes, Sarah continued to pull Chuck along, down an alleyway and around a couple of turns, until they burst into a wide open space. This space was more than half full of people waiting for the ski lift. She turned 360 degrees, looking around the open area for some means of escape. She heard Chuck yell something just as spits of sound, accompanied by small geysers of snow, suddenly began erupting around them.

He had been looking around, too, his eye out for the gunmen. They had obviously escaped the dance hall quickly because he saw them coming around a corner, headed right for them. "Sarah, here they come again!" He saw them stop and take aim, quickly followed by the snow around them popping up in a frozen dance.

Sarah reacted immediately, shoving him to the left until they reached a picnic table. "Chuck, help me turn this over!" Together the got the table on its side and dove behind it, just as bullets began to pepper the top of the table, now the only thing between them and certain death.

Shrieks of terror began to be heard all around the open space. The ricocheting bullets stopped and Sarah hoped it was because the men were afraid of hitting the civilians. But it would also mean they were in pursuit once again. She looked down at Chuck's face and could see his usual mix of fear and determination.

Turning to look behind her, she spied the solution to their immediate problem … she hoped. "Chuck, have you ever been snow skiing?" His mouth worked open and closed but nothing came out. She grabbed his face with both her hands and looked deeply into his eyes, "Chuck … honey … DON'T FREAK OUT! You've got to be strong and confident. Can. You. Ski?

Looking around, trying to comprehend just what she was asking him, he finally saw the ski equipment stuck upright along the fence. "No. Not exactly the athletic type, remember?" He tried to add one of his crooked little smiles, but he was sure it came out more of a grimace. "Did do a little skateboarding. How different could it be?"

"You're going to have to flash, Chuck. We need to get on the chairlift and then ski down the mountain." She moved quickly to the fence and grabbed the equipment. A few more bullets slammed into the table as she briefly became visible to the men. Grabbing his hand once again, she looked into his eyes and smiled one of electric smiles. "Piece of cake, Chuck, piece of cake!"

They jumped up together and ran to the loading zone of the chairlift. From the havoc caused by the gunfire, too many people were trying to all crowd onto the lift but Sarah bulldozed her way to the front, causing them to be cursed in several different languages. But it didn't stop her and soon they were in the chair, their feet dangling as the ground fell away.

"Uh, Sarah, you do remember that I'm rather scared of heights." Half question and half statement, Chuck's voice had an unnatural quiver to it and he was swallowing quite rapidly, matching the short, hard breaths he was taking.

"Relax, Chuck. I'm right here. I won't let you fall." A smile and quick kiss to the cheek helped Chuck calm down a little, but he really hoped it was a short ride.

They heard more commotion coming from behind them. Chuck was too nervous to turn and look down so he let Sarah do it. She saw that their pursuers had run through the crowd as well and were now on the lift, albeit, without skis or other equipment. They were six chairs behind so she figured they would have thirty to forty seconds, once off the lift, to get on their way.

Though awkward, she managed to get the skis on her boots. The movement made the chair rock unnaturally and she heard Chuck once again breathing hard. She scooted over, as close to him as she could get and wrapped her left arm around his shoulders while putting her right hand atop his. His knuckles were completely white as he gripped the snowboard with all his might. "It's going to be fine, Chuck. Trust me."

This time he was able to bring forth a small smile as he replied, "You, I trust. Always have; always will. It's the snow and ice and trees and rocks and whatever's at the bottom that has yet to win me over."

With a small laugh Sarah just patted his hands and bumped his shoulder with her's.

Thanks to the distraction of her touch and scent, it didn't seem to take long at all to reach the top. As they neared the jump off point she told him, "Okay, Chuck. There are two slopes here. The one to the left is for experts; you want to avoid that. The one on the right is for novices. I'm sure you can flash and negotiate that one without any problems. Here we go." On Sarah's command, they jumped together and landed smoothly. With skis on she smoothly glided to the right, while Chuck walking cautiously behind her. She took the board from his hands and directed him to hold onto a fence post they were standing next to, while he stepped onto the board. Once he was on, she locked the buckles, giving each foot a strong pat worthy of Devon _Awesome_ Woodcomb.

She stood, and was just opening her mouth to give him some quick instructions, when searing heat and pain ripped into her upper right arm. Everything suddenly moved in slow motion for her as she felt herself spin, lose her balance, and fall into Chuck. She caught a glimpse of him, his eyes and mouth open wide, arms flailing, and then he was gone, she couldn't feel him against her anymore. Looking around in panic, she couldn't find him, but she could hear a long scream that she instantly recognized. Fear gripped her immediately as she realized the scream was getting further away.

Despite the pain in her arm and shoulder, she used the post to help her quickly get back on her feet, just in time to see Chuck … her Chuck … the most important person in her life … ever … disappear over a sharp drop off, about thirty yards down the ski slope … to the left!

"CHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"


End file.
